Harry Potter and the Dark Uprising
by Gabriel4
Summary: A 6th year story. The world knows that Voldemort is back, and now he is recruiting. Harry and his friends find themselves pitted against new and dangerous enemies. Chapter 8: Discoveries.
1. Kidnapped

**A/N: **Harry Potter and the Dark Uprising is the sequel to Harry Potter and the Guardians.  It is rated PG-13 for very infrequent, mild oaths and occasional violence.  I reserve the right to change the title in the future.

Welcome to a new story!  I hadn't planned on posting quite so soon, but with everyone wanting to take my head off I thought that perhaps I should.  I have the beginning of the story pretty well planned out anyway.  Some people were pretty cheesed off by the end of Guardians while others were kinder.  Let me just say that I didn't do that to be evil; it was simply the end of the fifth year.  Besides, most of you know that I'm a pretty fast updater.  Chapter 2 may not come up too quickly – we'll see – because I want to get the whole plot fleshed out more thoroughly before I get too far in.  I'm not going to respond to individual reviews to the last chapter of Guardians because this is a whole new story, but many thanks to everyone who commented, even those of you who had nasty things to say.  And now, I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1: Kidnapped

Harry felt his feet slam onto hard stone.  The impact reverberated up his spine and into his head where a headache instantly bloomed.  For a moment he was dizzy and disoriented.  When Uncle Vernon let go of his wrist he swayed and almost fell.  When the dizziness passed, Harry looked over at his uncle.  Vernon had a hand pressed to his own head, obviously not yet recovered from the portkey trip.

Harry was already furious with his uncle from his callous insult to Harry's parents.  Though he was still reeling with shock, Vernon's actions were horribly clear.  He'd broken Harry's wand and taken him somewhere against his will.  _He'd_ _broken Harry's wand._  Harry had been about to go to the Burrow to see Sirius.  The Dursleys were going to give up custody of him; he was going to be free of them forever.

And now Uncle Vernon had gone and done this.

For the first time in his life, Harry let his hatred of his family rise to the surface.  He'd kept it under wraps for years; he'd been a child, uncertain of how to fight back against years of neglect and rejection.  But Harry didn't feel like a child anymore, and he wasn't about to be under Uncle Vernon's thumb for one more minute.

"AAAUGH!"  Harry leaned back and threw a punch as hard as he could.  His fist landed on his uncle's jaw with a painful jolt.  Vernon staggered backwards and grunted.  He was a very massive man, and Harry's hand stung from the impact.  He resisted the urge to nurse his aching knuckles.  "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?" Harry bellowed.

Vernon shook his head hard and raised a hand to his jaw.  "You'll pay for that, boy," he said hoarsely.

Harry planted his feet firmly on the floor.  The only member of the Dursleys to ever raise their hand against him had been Dudley, who liked to tussle and always won due to his sheer bulk.  Uncle Vernon was half as big again as his son, but Harry knew he'd be damned before he let him win.  "Just try it, you big, fat tub of lard," he spat.

Vernon went purple.  "Why, you –"

"Maybe you've forgotten that I don't have to live with you anymore!" Harry shouted.

"I haven't signed those papers yet," Vernon hissed.  "Until I do, you're mine."

"You hate me as much as I hate you," Harry snapped.  "Why try and keep me around?"

"Because I'm not done with you yet.  And believe me, you're not going anywhere."  Vernon walked backwards a few steps, never taking his eyes off Harry, and threw open a rickety wooden door.  On the other side was nothing but gray ocean.

For the first time, Harry took a good look at his surroundings.  The longer he looked, the more certain he was that he'd been there before.  The cold, dusty stone floor beneath his feet, the rickety wooden staircase, the moth-eaten sofa on his right…

"Welcome back to the hut on the rock," said Vernon, slamming the door shut again.  "And without your wand, I don't think you'll be able to best me."

Harry wasn't so sure about that.  He was sensitive to his uncle's every move thanks to an adrenaline rush.  Harry's mind was racing, taking stock of the situation.  The hut on the rock?  Hagrid had found him there once, almost six years ago.  Harry had never heard how he'd done it, and now he wished he knew.  Still, Hagrid had been acting on Dumbledore's behalf.  If they could find him once, they could find him again.

"You broke my wand," Harry said tightly.

"I should've done it a long time ago," said Vernon.  "If I'd known that was all it would take to cow you –"

"Who's cowed?" Harry snarled, clenching both hands into fists.  "If it hadn't been forbidden, I'd have taught you a lesson as soon as I knew how."

"Aha!" Vernon crowed.  "I always knew you harbored violent feelings against us.  I knew I should have done everything in my power to keep you away from that school!  We're all much better off without that wand, thank you very much!"

"Do you understand what you've done?" Harry shouted.  "That wand was brother to Voldemort's!  It was one of my few advantages against him!"  His voice shook as he finished.  The full implications of the loss of his wand were beginning to sink in.  That shiny length of wood had been the only barrier between himself and Voldemort last year – that and his strength of will, and now it was gone.  No other could ever give him so much protection.  He still didn't understand why, but it seemed he was destined to face Voldemort again, and his wand had been only one sign of that.  His wand had chosen him, and time and usage had made it a part of him.  Losing it was like losing an arm.

"Who?" Vernon said smugly.

"You're an idiot," said Harry.  "He won't stop with terrorizing the magical world.  He hates Muggles, especially Muggley ones like you!  If we don't defeat him, you'll be next.  Not that I would care very much if he rubbed _you_ out.  I've got every reason in the world to hate you."  Harry was more than a bit shocked at his own vehemence.  He had never said anything so horrible to anyone, but the tide of his anger was unstoppable.  "And I'm not stupid - you know who Voldemort is.  I know Professor Bellaton gave you a talking-to after last summer."

Vernon scowled.  "I know who he is.  And I don't care if your abomination of a teacher says it's your destiny to face him, because I know what you are – a skinny little nobody.  There's no way you could be that important."

Harry was beginning to feel concerned.  His uncle was a buffoon for sure, but he had never spoken so openly of the magical world before.  He didn't even like to acknowledge its existence, and now he wasn't just talking about magic, but he had _used _it on Harry just moments before.

"Who helped you do this?" Harry said cautiously, looking at the black glove on his uncle's left hand.

"I did," said a voice behind him.

Harry spun on his heel to see a witch with a very sharp nose and chin standing a few feet away.  She was wearing dark robes and a pointy hat with a wide brim.  Her own wand was aimed straight at him.  It was Madeleine Jenkins, the witch from the Wizengamot who had opposed Professor McGonagall so vehemently.

"You!" Harry exclaimed.

"Perhaps you thought I'd just fade into the woodwork?" she said tartly.

"Yeah, I guess so," Harry retorted.  "Fudge is dead.  All those people he was blackmailing are finally free to speak."

Madeleine sneered at him.  "Those people are fools, just like the ones who stand behind that old crackpot, Dumbledore!  Cornelius knew what was best for the people."

"I'm not so sure he did," said Harry.  "Anyway, it doesn't matter.  He had a change of heart before he died."

"I doubt that," said Madeleine.  "Cornelius was very firm in his convictions."

"He saw Voldemort with his own eyes!"

"Voldemort does not exist."

"Are you _insane_?" cried Harry.

"I don't think so – but your guardian is," she said.  A cold smile dawned on her lips.

Harry stared at her.  "How do you –"

"I was present at the first interrogation of Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange," she said.  "They explained how you had been immune to their curses.  I put two and two together."

"But… no one else…" Harry stammered.

"Do you think that Celeste Thornby is the only person who reads old books?" she said in tones of deepest satisfaction.  Harry could only goggle at her.  "Well!" she said brightly.  "I think we should get down to business!"

The hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood up.  "What are you talking about?"

Vernon stuck his hand back in his pocket and pulled out one shiny, golden Galleon.  "I found this wedged in the floorboards beneath your bed," he said.  "It's pure gold."

Harry's wrath bubbled up again when he saw the greedy gleam in his uncle's eyes.  "Is this about _money_?"

"You've got more.  I'm sure of it," said Vernon.

"You kidnapped me for MONEY?"

"Your parents died rich," said Madeleine.  "They left you a vault bursting with silver and gold."

"You owe me, boy," Vernon rasped.  "You owe me for all those years of upkeep!"

Harry narrowed his eyes.  There was something else in his uncle's face besides greed.  Unless he was very much mistaken, it was desperation.  "You're in trouble, aren't you?" he said suspiciously.

Vernon blinked.  "What makes you think that?" he said in a too-casual tone.

Harry's brain was still working overtime.  His uncle wanted money.  He was desperate enough to commit a crime _and_ use magic in the process.  And that meant… _He thinks he's got nothing to lose.  _The memory of his trip to the Wizengamot suddenly came flooding back.  "I saw you coming out of the Magistrates' Court!" Harry shouted triumphantly, pointing his finger at his uncle.  "You _are_ in trouble!"

Vernon went purple.  Whether it was in anger or embarrassment, Harry couldn't tell.  "That's none of your business."

"What happened?" Harry said.  "Did you get fired from Grunnings, or did the company go bankrupt?  Did you do something illegal?  Steal from the company?  Tax fraud?"

Vernon's face went even darker at Harry's last guess.  "Watch yourself, boy!"

_Bingo,_ Harry thought.  "So not paying your taxes wasn't enough," he taunted.  "You thought you'd dig yourself an even _deeper_ hole and kidnap me in order to steal my inheritance."

"What kidnapping?" said Madeleine.  "He's still your legal guardian."

"Yeah, well, seeing as he knew that was about to change, I think it's not quite so cut and dry," Harry said.  Vernon's lip curled and Madeleine paled a bit.  _Hah!_ Harry thought.

The witch regained her composure.  "We demand the contents of your parents' vault."

Harry couldn't believe their audacity.  Unable to help himself, he laughed out loud.  "And you think I can just walk in there and get it?  I don't care what you say, he _took_ me and now there are probably a hundred people looking for me with a fine-toothed comb.  Besides, I haven't got the key on me, and there's no way either of you can get your hands on it without getting caught."

"Oh, we don't expect you to get it yourself," Madeleine said sweetly.  "You're being held for ransom.  You will instruct Remus Lupin to withdraw the contents of your parents' vault and deliver them to a location _we_ will specify.  If all goes well, you will be Obliviated and released, unharmed.  In addition, you may be assured that neither one of us will ever interfere in your life again."

Harry snorted.  "And if I refuse?"

"I will have your friend Neville's parents killed."

Harry went cold.  "They're being watched," he said carefully.

"Hmm," said Madeleine.  "Dumbledore should be more careful about who he trusts.  Gold is a very effective means of persuasion."

"You've bought a Healer?" Harry said, completely horrified.

"Not just Healers," said Madeleine, her smile widening.  "I've got friends all over the place.  The Wizengamot, the Assembly, the Auror corps…"  She trailed off and let the implication sink in.  "Believe me, there will be no warning.  The Longbottoms will simply be found dead.  And should you continue to refuse, your poor, mad _guardian_ will be next.  I thought about making her first, but then I wondered how you'd feel knowing that you could have saved your friend so much pain."

"What's in this for you?" Harry asked.

"Forty percent of your parents' fortune and a new life," she replied.  "You ruined me, you know.  You and Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall.  Oh, and let's not forget that damned barrister, too.  You took my legs out from under me that day.  After that, Cornelius looked for someone else to be his number one witch on the court.  And now I've been forced to resign!  You can't imagine the humiliation I've suffered!"  Her smug smile had been replaced by a twisted snarl.

"You can't blame us," said Harry.  "You're the one who blackmailed people, so the consequences are your own."

"Only because they were dangerous fools set on plunging the magical world into a needless panic!" she snapped.  "We had to control them for the good of all!"

"Liar!" said Harry.  "Fudge loved power, and so do you!  _Both _of you," he amended, turning to look at his uncle in turn.  Harry opened his mouth to harangue him further, but stopped when he saw the look on Vernon's face.  It was one of absolute panic.

"You never mentioned killing anyone," he said.

"What better leverage could you ask for?" Madeleine Jenkins said coolly.

"You said no one would get hurt.  We'd both get new starts and Harry would be returned to the station," said Vernon.

Harry looked back and forth between the two adults.  Some part of him was relieved to hear that his uncle wasn't completely black-hearted.

Madeleine put one hand on her hip in irritation, but she kept her wand trained on Harry.  "Do you want the money or not?" she said.  "Without it, you're ruined."

"I'm not prepared to go to jail for murder!" cried Vernon.

"No one's going to jail, you stupid Muggle!" Madeleine retorted.  "A few well-placed Memory Charms, and everything's hunky-dory!"

All of Harry's attention was focused on Madeleine Jenkins.  As she argued with Vernon she was paying less and less attention to him.  Harry tensed, ready to spring.

"_I_ snatch Harry from Kings Cross in front of dozens of people, he gets held for ransom, and his friend's parents turn up dead?" Vernon exclaimed.  "Put this… _guardian _on top of that, and they'll certainly trace it back to me.  _You're_ the one who gets off scot-free!"

"_You_ kidnapped him because _I_ couldn't afford to be seen doing it!"

"What's to stop you from erasing my memory and taking my part of the money?"

"You know, that's not a bad –"

Harry saw his chance.  He leapt at Madeleine Jenkins, his hand outstretched and grasping for her wand.  Just as he'd hoped, she was too surprised to react in time.  Harry's fist closed on her wand and he yanked it right from her grasp.  But even as he won the weapon, she began to fight back.  She twisted her body and pulled Harry off balance.  He fell to the ground and she lunged at him.

"_Immobulus_!" he cried.  Madeleine collided with him and the spell flew past her shoulder.  She stretched out one hand, scratching at Harry's face with her nails as she tried to reach her wand.  He yelped and twisted, trying to push away from her.

"_Rictusempra_!" he shouted, but he couldn't get the wand pointed at her.  The spell shot toward a wall, striking a broken mirror and ricocheting off.  As he struggled with Madeleine, Harry briefly saw Vernon duck behind the moth-eaten couch.

One of Madeleine's hands closed on her wand, but Harry still had the handle.  "_Atterius_!" she screamed, and a burst of green light flew up and struck the ceiling.  She and Harry grappled for a moment longer, and then they both heard the support beams above them creak ominously.  Old plaster trickled down in flakes.  The ceiling groaned as if it were beneath a weight to great to support.

"_Fractisto_!" Madeleine shouted, trying again.  Harry heard a great BOOM behind him and a salty wind blew into the small room.  He didn't have to look to know that part of the wall was gone.

At that moment, the sound of splintering wood filled the air.  Madeleine looked up, and Harry kicked out with his right foot, catching her in the stomach.  She tumbled away and he barely managed to keep his grip on the wand.  Harry scrabbled backwards as the ceiling above them gave way.  In a cloud of dust and plaster, an old, rotting wardrobe came crashing down right where they had been fighting.

For a moment there was silence save for the soft sound of plaster trickling down onto the rubble from the gaping hole in the ceiling.  Then Vernon coughed from his hiding place behind the sofa, and Madeleine Jenkins sneezed.

Harry got to his feet.  Miraculously, he was unhurt and the wand was still whole; the only thing broken was his glasses.  He backed up toward the door, wand at the ready, so he could cover both his attackers.  He spared one brief glance to his right, where a huge, circular hole had indeed been blown out of the wall.  _Good thing that one missed me,_ he thought.

Madeleine began to rise.  Harry stretched her wand out before him and said, "Don't even think about it."

She curled her lip.  "Ruination is too good for you, Potter."

"You think being poor is the same thing as being ruined?" he said incredulously.  "I've got friends.  They'd never let me starve in the hedgerows."

"Not everyone is so lucky," Madeleine said coldly.

"It's not luck," said Harry, "but I think it has something to do with the fact that I don't go around blackmailing people."

She sneered at him.  "What exactly do you plan to do now, Potter?  You're stuck on this miserable rock.  You can't Apparate, you have no Floo powder, and you can't make a portkey.  _I_, on the other hand, can Disapparate whenever I please."

At that moment a large, tawny owl flew in through the hole in the wall and let a letter fall from its talons.  Harry snatched it out of the air.  Without taking his eyes off either Madeleine or his uncle, he broke the seal one-handed and unfolded the parchment.  He backed up a little farther to broaden his field of view.  Only then did he look at the paper.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_At __seven fifty-three__ in the evening of 9th June, an unauthorized Immobilizing Charm was used at…_

Harry jerked his eyes back toward Madeleine Jenkins, who had thrust her hand into her robes.  Quick as lightning, she threw something down on the floor which shattered into a thousand tiny pieces.  Vernon howled in fright at the sudden sound.  A chill breeze wafted over the floor for a moment before the wind from the sea blew it away.

"What was that?" Harry said tightly.  She merely smiled back at him.  "WHAT WAS THAT?" he shouted, and her smile broadened.  Harry's eyes scanned the room, looking for any change at all in his surroundings.  After a few seconds passed and nothing had happened, a terrible suspicion began to form in Harry's heart.  "It was a signal," he whispered.

"I'd say you're too late already," she said.

White hot rage surged through Harry's veins.  He pointed the wand at Madeleine, intent on cursing her into oblivion.  Vernon whimpered and cowered by the sofa.

There was a loud CRACK, and the small room was suddenly full of witches and wizards.  A small forest of wands pointed at Madeleine and Vernon, and a dozen voices shouted things like "Freeze!" and "Don't move!"  More than one cried "_Nectiris_!"  Harry didn't know what it meant, but Madeleine Jenkins screamed in frustration.  When she didn't Disapparate, Harry realized that the spell had prevented her from doing so.

"Harry, are you all right?" said Sirius as he and Lupin pushed their way to his side.

"St. Mungo's!" Harry said.  "The Longbottoms!"

"What?"  Dumbledore strode out of the crowd.  "What do you mean?"

"She said – she gave a signal!"  Harry was having trouble getting the right words out, but Dumbledore seemed to understand.

"Emmeline, Nymphadora, Arthur, with me!" he ordered.  His gnarled hand clamped firmly down on Harry's shoulder.  Harry saw a white flash and found himself standing back in the waiting room at St. Mungo's.

The witch on duty at the desk opened her mouth when Dumbledore, Harry, and the others hurried toward her, but they didn't stop.  They went straight past the desk and into the hallway.  "Hey, you can't go back there!" she shouted.

"Find Healer Bigelow!" Dumbledore bellowed, otherwise ignoring her.

Lupin, who had followed, walked beside Harry on either side as they charged down the long hallway toward the closed ward.  More than one Healer opened their mouth to ask what on earth they were doing, but one look from Dumbledore silenced them.

They reached the doors to the ward just as Bigelow came hurrying up.  "Rest for the Weary," he said, and the doors swung open.  Halfway down the ward, they could barely see a young Healer trying to get Frank Longbottom to drink from a half-empty glass.  His wife was leaning back in her chair with her eyes closed.

The young Healer looked up when the doors banged open.  He dropped the glass and backpedaled, falling over his own feet in the process.  He fumbled with his robes as the group advanced, looking for his wand, but Dumbledore stopped him.  "_Petrificus__ Totalus_!" the headmaster said in a commanding voice, and the Healer's arms and legs snapped tightly against his body, leaving him unable to move.

"Damn it!" Bigelow swore when he reached the Longbottoms.  "He's poisoned Alice!  Torbitt!  Scorley!  Get the antidote for Blackwater Poison!"  Two white-robed Healers jumped and ran for the doors.

Harry looked down at the broken glass on the floor.  The puddle that had formed around it looked just like water, but it certainly wasn't black.

Bigelow hurried over to a large cabinet on one wall.  He waved his wand and the doors sprung open.  Bottles of all shapes and sizes lined the shelves inside; Bigelow knocked several of them to the floor in his haste.  He muttered as he searched.  "Dringle's Soothing Salve, extract of moonflower, salted iodine… where is it?"

Suddenly, Harry was struck with an inspiration.  He reached inside the neck of his shirt and found the talisman given to him by Sirius and Lupin.  He tugged on it, and with a tearing sound it came free, a piece of his shirt still attached to the pin.  Harry reached out and took Mrs. Longbottom's open hand.  He dropped the green jewel into it and closed her fingers around it.  Immediately a soft green glow began to seep between her fingers.

The adults all looked at Harry with a mixture of interest and appraisal.  "You are full of surprises, Harry," said Tonks, shaking her head.  Lupin beamed at him, clearly pleased that he was still wearing the gift.

"My word," said Bigelow, who had finally found what he was looking for.  "Harry Potter, you are a godsend!"

"Will it help?" said Harry.

"Indeed," said Bigelow.  "It could sustain her for hours if need be.  We used to keep a few emeralds in wards around the hospital for use in an emergency, but they were always being stolen, and they're not easy to replace."  He put down the vial he was holding.  "I don't need to use this now.  She will be all right until Torbitt and Scorley return."

Harry suddenly remembered something else that Madeleine Jenkins had said.  "Professor Thornby!" he exclaimed.  "Is she all right?"

"She is well," said Bigelow.  "Bertram Hill is standing guard, and if he isn't loyal to Dumbledore, no one is."

"It's just that Madeleine Jenkins threatened her, too," said Harry.  "She said she'd be next."

"She is well," Bigelow repeated kindly.  "I was at her side when you arrived.  No one has poisoned her, though a few scratches have appeared on her face."  Harry was relieved to hear it; considering what he'd just been through, he'd been able to hold well to his promise and avoid injury.  At least he'd managed to avoid being blasted by Madeleine's spell or squashed by the falling wardrobe.

With the immediate danger averted, everyone began to relax.  Dumbledore wearily sank into a chair and rubbed his forehead.  Healer Bigelow went to clean up the mess of bottles he'd knocked to the floor, and Tonks and the witch called Emmeline stood guard over the traitorous Healer.

Harry took his first good look at the petrified figure on the floor and jumped.  It was the young man who had first examined him right after the battle in the graveyard.

"I'd never have thought that Brian Murphy was capable of this," said Bigelow with a shake of his head.  "To think that Healers could become murderers… I can't fathom it.  We go into this field to _help_ people!"

"He might not be the only one," said Harry.  He turned toward Dumbledore.  "Madeleine Jenkins said you should be more careful about who you trust.  She says she's got friends everywhere."

"It looks like it is time to move Celeste," said the headmaster.

"What about the Longbottoms?" said Tonks.

"I do not think they can be moved," said Dumbledore.  "Another guard can be arranged for them here.  Besides, if my suspicions are correct, they were nothing more than leverage to Miss Jenkins.  Celeste is more likely to be a target for others."

Harry nodded.

"Maybe you should start from the beginning," said Dumbledore.

Harry did so, starting with his uncle's unexpected appearance in Kings Cross, their odd conversation, and the destruction of his wand.  When he described how the black glove had portkeyed both of them to the hut on the rock, he stopped to ask a question.  "It had to be a portkey, but how could Uncle Vernon be touching it already and not be transported?"

"Possibly only part of the glove was charmed," said Dumbledore.  "Most have an outer covering and an inner lining.  It would have been a tricky piece of work, but it could have been done."

"It gave us a terrible fright," said Mr. Weasley.  "All of a sudden there was nothing left but the pieces of your wand on the ground.  I have them here, if you want them."

Harry stretched out his hand and Mr. Weasley dropped the remains of his faithful wand into his open palm.  Harry regarded them sadly for a moment before tucking them back into his pocket.

"Wands can be replaced," said Tonks.

"But mine was brother to Voldemort's," said Harry.

"Well, Fawkes has not given a feather in more than twenty years," said Dumbledore.  "If we ask him very nicely, he may consent to give another."

Harry's heart lifted.  "Really?  You think so?"

"You proved your loyalty to me in the Chamber of Secrets," said Dumbledore.  "Fawkes will not have forgotten, as he has a very long memory."

The doors to the closed ward suddenly burst open, and the two Healers came rushing back in with a large bottle.  Bigelow took it and poured a small amount into a new glass, which he administered to Mrs. Longbottom.  "Done," he said, stepping back.  He retuned the antidote to the two Healers and thanked them.  Then he opened Mrs. Longbottom's hand and retrieved the talisman, which was barely glowing now.  Harry pinned it back to his torn shirt.  "I am not looking forward to speaking with Magnolia Longbottom," said Bigelow.

Everyone chuckled.  "At least they are both still alive," said Dumbledore.  "Now – if you will finish your tale, Harry?"

Harry related the rest of his experience, including his captors' demands and the fight.  "There's something else I don't understand," he said when he finished.  "How did you find me?"

"The owl," said Mr. Weasley.  "The Ministry keeps tabs on all underage wizards.  If you cast a spell outside of Hogwarts, you are immediately sent a letter of warning."

"I know," said Harry.  "I got one just before second year, when Dobby levitated a pudding at my house."  Emmeline and Tonks looked at Harry curiously, but then was not the best time to tell the whole tale.

"I myself am not certain of how the owls know where to find you, but they can," said Mr. Weasley.  "As soon as the letter was sent, Kingsley knew."

"But how did he know to watch?" said Harry.

"I can mobilize the Order very quickly," said Dumbledore.  "Within three minutes of your disappearance, most members were doing their preassigned tasks."

Harry frowned.  "You mean –"

"Ensuring your safety is just one of the goals of the Order," said Dumbledore.  "For months we have had a contingency plan to use in just this situation."

"This is my fault," said Lupin, looking down at the floor.  "I shouldn't have let Harry go off with Dursley.  He'd done too much harm to be trusted."

"You didn't trust him," said Mr. Weasley.  "Neither did I.  He was a Muggle, and they were only ten feet away where we could see them.  Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine he could possibly do such a thing."

"Me neither," said Harry.  "He hates everything to do with magic.  He hardly ever talked about it before today."

"Calm yourself, Remus," said Dumbledore.  "No one is holding you responsible.  Perhaps I shouldn't ever sit beneath a tree, because a large branch might unexpectedly fall on my aged head."

Lupin smiled a bit, seeming reassured.

"Well!" said Dumbledore.  "Who's ready for a nice, uneventful summer vacation?"

"Wait!" said Lupin.  "What about the papers Dursley was supposed to sign?"

"And what's going to happen to him?" said Harry.

"I am sure he has signed by now," said Dumbledore.  "He will be turned over to the Muggle authorities.  As for Miss Jenkins and Mr. Murphy here, they will be sent to Azkaban pending trial."

"But I thought the dementors were gone," said Harry.

"They are," said Dumbledore.  "The prison is being reinforced with all manner of spells and wards.  These could be assaulted, of course, but it would take time to break through them, and the Ministry will be able to respond in time."

"You look a fright, Harry," said Lupin, swiping at Harry's unruly hair.  A small shower of white plaster rained past Harry's face.  Harry looked up at one of the windows that lined the closed ward.  It was now quite dark outside, and he could see his reflection plainly.  He _was_ disheveled; his hair was gray from the dust, his robes were torn, and one of the lenses of his glasses was broken.

"It takes a better pair than Vernon Dursley and Madeleine Jenkins to kidnap _you_," Lupin said proudly.  "Come on – let's go home.  Sirius couldn't come here, of course, but he'll be wanting to see you."

Harry grinned.  Despite what had just happened, he was feeling good.  Lupin was right; two people had tried to capture him, and he'd fought them off with his bare hands.  The Longbottoms and Professor Thornby were safe, and the three attackers were under arrest.  For the first time in what felt like ages, it was a complete victory for the good guys.


	2. Meet the Order

**A/N: **Chapter two, finally.  My apologies for having taken so long, but I haven't had quite as much time to work on this of late, and I've been spending most of my writing time on the general story outline.  It's coming together.  Stick with me.  A correction was made in the first chapter.  A few people wanted to know how Harry got scratched if Professor Thornby is supposed to be buffering him.  Well, he wouldn't be scratched.  I can't believe I messed that up, but at least it was a very minor point and easy to fix.

All Hail Chaos: Well, Jenkins wasn't an entirely random choice.  Nice to hear from you again!

howling wolf1: Thanks!

Rob: I hope _you_ think the rest is just as good.  I'm sure I'll like it.

krysalys73: Aww, you're sweet.  Thanks for the encouragement, and also for pointing out my error in chapter 1!

athenakitty: Will Harry be happy now?  Well, maybe someday.  :-)

Meggplant: Yes!  Harry should have backbone!  I know he probably should have gone through more teenagerish moodiness but hey, it's my story and he's going to be a little bit more levelheaded.  Like Hermione.  She's not moody (except around Ron… snicker).

Jemma Blackwell: Sorry it took so long to get the second chapter out.  I figure Dumbledore must have a way of contacting the Order members, just as Voldemort can use the Dark Mark to call his Death Eaters.  No tattoos for the Order, though.

greendragonuk: I sure hope this story is better than Guardians.  It's been almost two years since I started that one and I'm thinking I've improved.

Prongs4: Well, I'm guessing that by now you've eaten all that popcorn.  It's long gone.  Make up a fresh batch, would ya?  (Hilarious review, by the way.)

padfootfe: Hmmm… the end notice might not have been there when you first read the end of Guardians.  I put it up after the fact.

capncrunchnotthecereal: I've been busy too (obviously).  I hope the story lives up to expectations.

InfiniteThinking: Interesting name you've got there!  Yes, if you say nice things I will write more.  To be fair I should tell you that I will continue to write even if you said nasty things… but that would make me sad.

Talix: Thanks for pointing out my error with the scratches.  You are very observant!  Hopefully there will be a bunch of new chapters soon so you can go ahead and read.

Chapter 2: Meet the Order

Lupin grasped Harry's shoulder and the two of them Apparated straight to Alverbrooke.  Sirius was pacing back and forth in the breakfast room.  "Finally!" he said when his friend and godson appeared.  "Is everything all right?  Are _you_ all right?"

"Everyone's fine, Padfoot," Lupin said reassuringly.

"You look awful," said Sirius, giving Harry a critical look.  He pointed his wand at Harry's head and said, "_Scourgify_!  Ah, that's better.  What was that stuff in your hair, anyway?"

"Plaster," said Harry.  "From the wardrobe falling through the ceiling."

"The... what?  Never mind, I want to know about the Longbottoms first."

"Still alive," said Lupin, "thanks to Harry."  He explained about the poisoning and how Harry had used the talisman to help Alice.

"Did it really work?" Sirius said eagerly.  He barked a short laugh when Lupin nodded.  "Fantastic!  I knew how it was supposed to work and all, but I've never actually seen it done.  It's lucky you made it in time."

"Neville would've been crushed if anything had happened to them," said Harry.

"Poor kid," said Lupin, shaking his head.  "Growing up an orphan's one thing.  Growing up with parents who can't know you… that's another."  He and Sirius exchanged a significant glance.

Harry was more eager than ever to start his research.  Neville had been spared the pain of losing his parents, but he was still going to have to hear that someone had tried to kill them.  The sooner Harry and his friends found a cure, the sooner the Longbottoms could have a normal life.  _And not be sitting ducks,_ he thought.  "Did someone tell Hermione that I'm okay?" he said aloud.

"I'm sure Arthur has taken care of it," said Lupin.  "She was as terrified as the rest of us.  We had to Obliviate a dozen Muggles who saw you vanish into thin air."

"I knew the Dursleys would cause more trouble," Sirius growled.  "You should've let me teach them a lesson last Christmas."

"You would've torn them to pieces," said Lupin.

"They've earned it ten times over," Sirius said darkly.  "Dursley was always a bad apple.  I doubt Harry's surprised that this happened."  Harry looked at the floor.  "I still don't know why he did it," said Sirius when Harry remained silent.

"He wanted money," said Harry.

"Apparently it had nothing to do with Voldemort," said Lupin.  "It was an old-fashioned kidnapping for ransom."

Sirius balled his hands into fists.  "Vernon Dursley kidnaps his own nephew and shakes him down for _money_?  I've never heard of anything so low!"

"I think he committed tax fraud," said Harry.

"I can well believe it," Sirius snorted.  But what about Jenkins?  Don't tell me she wanted money too."

Harry didn't feel like telling the story again, so Lupin related what Harry had said at St. Mungo's.  While he talked and Sirius listened with a black expression on his face, Harry took a chair and rested his cheek on one hand, thinking.  In a way, Sirius was right – Harry wasn't _completely_ shocked by what his uncle had done.  The man had always been self-centered and greedy.  Still, he never could have predicted that this would happen, not even after last summer.  Now that he'd had some time to think about it, Harry was more certain than ever that Uncle Vernon must have been really desperate to resort to kidnapping _and_ the use of magic.

So he'd been turned over to the Muggle police.  What was going to happen to Dudley and Aunt Petunia, Harry wondered?  If his uncle _had_ committed tax fraud, how much did they owe?  Public humiliation was certainly in store for them.  There'd be no more trips to Majorca, Harry was sure.

_They deserve it,_ said a voice inside Harry's head.  _You reap what you sow._

_No kidding,_ Harry thought back.  _Uncle Vernon's been sowing for a long time now._

_Forget about the Dursleys,_ said the voice.  _They're nothing to you._

Harry didn't feel like arguing with that.  As he continued to think about the Dursleys, irritation intruded on his good mood.  His rage at his uncle and Madeleine Jenkins had vanished when the Order members had arrived at the hut-on-the-rock; with his escape assured Harry had become focused on getting to the Longbottoms before it was too late.  Now when he thought again of how selfish, how arrogant, how callous his uncle had been…  Anger welled up inside him.  Where had Uncle Vernon found the nerve?  Had Aunt Petunia been in on the plan, too?  Harry doubted it, but then again, he never would have thought his uncle would kidnap him, either.  Today all that had changed.  The only person that Harry could be absolutely certain had not been involved was Dudley.  He was too young and stupid for this sort of thing.  But someday he'd grow up and be just like Uncle Vernon, just as fat and cruel and self-centered…

_You hate them, don't you?_ the voice questioned.

Harry grimaced.  He _did_ hate them.  He couldn't think of a single instance when any of them had willingly bestowed a kindness upon him.  Years of subtle abuse hadn't been quite enough for his relatives; they'd had to finish it with abduction and extortion.  It was their desire to get money from Harry that infuriated him the most; the physical kidnapping was secondary.  How _dare_ they?  It was _they_ who owed _him_ for the childhood they'd stolen.

_They're going to get what's coming to them,_ said the little voice inside Harry's head.  _They're going to have to walk a mile in your shoes now.  No more easy street for them._

It occurred to Harry that it was rather ironic that the Dursleys had finally met their downfall through him, the one they had exploited for so long.  In all the time he'd lived with them Harry had never once thought of retribution; he had simply been longing for the day when he could leave them far behind.  Even after the Dragonthistle Potion he'd not considered revenge, but now that their downfall had come he wasn't sorry.  

_Exactly,_ said the voice.  _They're family in name only.  Forget about them.  You've wanted them out of your life since you were first old enough to understand how they felt about you.  Why waste a single thought on them now?  You're free!_

_Yeah,_ thought Harry.  _I _AM_ free._

"Harry?" said Sirius.

"Hmm?" said Harry, jerked out of his reverie.

"I said, I'm proud of you.  You handled yourself like a pro."

"I didn't feel like a pro," Harry said rather tartly, still smoldering over the Dursleys.  "It was a tug of war, not a test of skill."

"Well, you won, didn't you?" Sirius said brightly.  "It was the only thing you _could_ do.  Yes, I'd say you kept your head very well."

"I'd like to forget about Vernon Dursley for a while," said Lupin.  "Let's get Harry settled.  Have you got his things, Padfoot?"

"I have," said Sirius.

At those words Harry felt his spirits rise again.  Here he was, moving into a new home with his father's best friends.  The Dursleys really were out of his life forever... almost.  There was just one thing left before all the t's had been crossed.  "What about the papers?" Harry said, voicing his last concern.  "What if Uncle Vernon still refuses to sign?"

"I don't think you need to worry about that," said Lupin.  "He's in a lot of trouble.  He hasn't got a leg to stand on."

"Dumbledore will take care of it," Sirius said reassuringly.  "What room do you want?"

Harry chuckled a bit.  "What's so funny?" Lupin said curiously.

"No one's ever asked me that before," he said.  "At Privet Drive I went from the cupboard under the stairs to Dudley's second bedroom."

"Well, there are no cupboards here," said Sirius.  "I'm sorry, Harry, but you'll have to content yourself with something really big."

"Is the green one still free?" said Harry.

"Yes," said Sirius.

"Then I'll take that."

Lupin levitated Harry's trunk, Sirius picked up the Firebolt, and Harry carried Hedwig's cage.  They climbed the two flights of stairs to the third floor and walked to Harry's chosen room at the end of the hall.  By now it was quite dark outside.  Someone had taken the trouble to light several of the oil lamps that stood here and there in brackets on the walls.  The night breeze was coming in through the open windows.

Lupin threw open the lid of Harry's trunk and the three of them began to unpack.  The three of them spent a cheerful hour making the room look like home, and as he worked Harry forgot all about the Dursleys.  He let Hedwig out of her cage; she soared out one of the open windows and into the night in search of dinner.  Sirius propped the Firebolt up in a corner.  The chest that held Harry's set of Quidditch balls was placed nearby.  His clothes were magicked into a tall, dark wardrobe and his schoolbooks were set upon the desk.  Harry pulled out a lurid orange poster of the Chudley Cannons that Ron had given him and hung it up on the wall.  The seven team members zoomed across it on their broomsticks, waving enthusiastically at their audience.

"That color is almost painful to look at," said Lupin, wincing jokingly at the poster.

"You should see Ron's room at the Burrow," said Harry.  "The whole thing's orange."

"I'm more of a Darbyshire Devils man, myself," said Sirius.

Lupin snorted.  "The Cannons flattened them in their last matchup."

"Yeah, well, the Devils have better colors, at least," said Sirius with a grin.  Despite what had happened that evening Sirius and Lupin seemed to be in very high spirits, clearly as happy about the move as Harry was.

Harry's stomach growled loudly.  "Did you hear that, Padfoot?" said Lupin.

"I did," said Sirius, still grinning cheekily.  "Hungry, Harry?"

"I'm _starving_," Harry admitted.  "The last thing I had to eat was a couple of Chocolate Frogs on the train."

"Come on, then," said Lupin.  "I'm sure the house-elves will only be too happy to whip something up."

Sirius rolled his eyes as they headed back down the hall.  "Ask them for a light lunch and they'll give you a full picnic for six."

On the way to the breakfast room Harry met Pip, the head house-elf.  Pip was in complete awe at meeting Harry, though he seemed a bit more down-to-earth than Dobby had been.

"Such a pleasure it is to speak with you at last!" he squeaked, bowing so low that his squashed nose was in danger of touching the floor.  "Pip helped Mistress Celeste take care of Master Potter while he was poisoned.  Pip does not think Master Potter would remember him."

"Er, no, sorry," said Harry, feeling more than a little embarrassed at being referred to as "Master".  "I don't remember anything from that week.  And you can call me Harry."

"Certainly, Master Harry!"  Harry sighed and Sirius and Lupin chuckled softly.  "Is there anything Pip can do for you, sirs?" the house-elf said, bobbing his head up and down.

"Master Harry hasn't eaten in some time," said Sirius, winking at his godson.

"Ah!  Supper it is, Master Black!" squeaked Pip.  "Pip will see to it at once!"  And with a loud crack, he vanished.

Harry, Sirius, and Lupin arrived in the breakfast room and took their seats.  They had not been waiting two minutes before food appeared.  There was so much variety it was almost like being at Hogwarts.  All the food was piled high in a large cluster of serving dishes.  "What did I tell you?" said Sirius.  "There's enough here to feed ten!"

Harry, who was ravenous, thought he might be able to down it all himself.  It felt like ages since his last meal – the clock on the wall said it was nearly ten o'clock – and the fight with Madeleine Jenkins had been tiring.  He took a little bit of everything and dug in.  Sirius and Lupin were talking about something but Harry's mind was too busy for him to notice much.  With the Dursleys firmly out of his mind he was free to mull over the post-kidnapping events.

More than anything else Harry wanted to know about the Order of the Phoenix.  The whole last two weeks of school he had abided by Hagrid's advice and not brought it up though he had badly wanted to know what it was all about.  But today he'd been found by at least a dozen members of the Order, and even though he'd had things fairly under control, they had come with the intent to rescue him.  Dumbledore had dropped a few tantalizing hints at St. Mungo's although he had stopped short of actually explaining what the group was all about.  If Harry hadn't been so caught up in the moment, he might have used the opportunity to put the headmaster on the spot.  Now that the moment had passed and the adrenaline had stopped flowing, he was bursting with questions.

"...and he's talking about getting a guardian for Ron and Hermione, too," said Sirius.  "Harry, are you listening?"

"What is the Order of the Phoenix?" Harry said abruptly.

Sirius and Lupin shared a brief, uncertain glance.  "How much do you know about it?" said Lupin.

"That it exists, that Dumbledore runs it, and that one of its goals is to protect me," said Harry.  "Add the people that I know are members, and that's it."

Lupin calmly took a sip of tea.  "We don't run the Order.  It's not up to us to go divulging secrets."

"Oh, come on!" cried Harry.  "What is it about this group that no one can tell me about?  I get one hint after another, but no one will come out and say it!"

Lupin remained perfectly impassive in the face of Harry's outburst, but Sirius looked sympathetic.  "I'm sorry," he said.  "We really can't say anything until Dumbledore gives us the go-ahead."

"Why not?  Are you afraid I'll go spilling my guts to anyone who'll listen?"

"That's not it," said Lupin.

"Well, _why_, then?" Harry pleaded.

"Because you're not a member," said Sirius.  "It's up to Dumbledore to decide who can know about it."

"But I _already_ know about it," said Harry.  "So do Ron and Hermione!"

"Already know about what?" said a voice behind them.

Harry turned to see Dumbledore stepping out of the fireplace, brushing soot from his robes.  "Professor... sir... what is the Order of the Phoenix?" Harry blurted out.  Lupin _tsked_ beside him.

"Ah," said Dumbledore as he straightened his glasses.  "I expected that you would want to know as much.  The Order is a group of witches and wizards who are dedicated to the complete and utter defeat of Voldemort.  I am its leader."

"Oh," said Harry, feeling taken aback.  After all the hints and secrecy he had not expected such a direct answer.

"Simply knowing what the Order is does not help you much," said Dumbledore.  "I came to summon all three of you to an emergency meeting.  I think it is time that you learned who your friends are, Harry."

Harry couldn't help himself; a wide grin spread across his face.  He had hardly dared to hope that he would be told about the Order so soon, much less be invited to a meeting.

"However," said Dumbledore, "you will not be permitted to listen to the entire meeting.  One must be an adult to join the Order, and it deals with many matters that students should not have to concern themselves with.  As much as you may feel you have earned your place, you cannot be a full member.  On this point there will be no negotiation."

Harry wanted to argue.  True, the adults had all been around when Voldemort had last been in power, but he'd done more to thwart the Dark Lord than almost anyone else alive.  First, second and fourth year they'd crossed swords, not to mention when he was just a baby.  _Well, maybe not so much that one, _Harry thought.  That had really been his mother's doing.  Then there was everything that had happened last year.  He'd kept himself alive after being poisoned by the Blakes.  He'd saved Snape's life after they'd stumbled into a trap left by someone in the Ministry delegation.  He'd gone to the Wizengamot to help Professor McGonagall get justice for Professor Thornby.  Matters he didn't need to concern himself with?  He never went looking for trouble; trouble found _him_ because Voldemort wanted him dead!  If there was anyone who deserved – no, needed – to know how the Dark Lord was being counteracted, it was Harry.  He _very _much wanted to argue, but the headmaster's eyes were so penetrating that Harry had to acquiesce.  _At least Dumbledore's not keeping you out entirely,_ he thought.  It didn't seem like much of a consolation prize.

"I hope we're going to talk about what to do with Celeste," Lupin said firmly.

"We will," said Dumbledore.  "I am fairly certain that moving her here to Alverbrooke will be acceptable to everyone, but it must be brought up all the same."

Harry blinked as something Lupin said tugged at a corner of his mind.  Professor Thornby… threatened…  "Did I tell you that Madeleine Jenkins knows she's my guardian?" he blurted out.  He couldn't remember if he had amidst all the excitement about the Longbottoms.

Sirius, Lupin, and Dumbledore all slowly turned their heads to look at Harry.  "No, you did not," Dumbledore said gravely, his brow furrowing.

"You said she threatened Celeste," said Lupin, who began to look worried.  "I just assumed it was because she was your teacher.  Someone you knew."

Harry shook his head.  "No.  She figured it out.  She said she was there when Bellatrix and Mr. Malfoy were interrogated –"

Dumbledore slapped his wand into his open palm.  His eyes flashed with blue fire.  "She was," he said tightly.  "As a high-ranking member of the Wizengamot she was entitled to be there.  I might have been able to find a way to keep her out, but with Cornelius gone… I never anticipated this kind of trouble.  Obviously this was very poor judgment on my part."

"Well, what does it matter?" said Sirius.  "She's just one person, and she's going to jail.  You could modify her memory if you really felt that you had to do it."

"It matters," said Dumbledore.  "I am beginning to suspect that Miss Jenkins is not a lone voice of dissention."

"She's a nut job!" Sirius said angrily.  "She still won't believe that Voldemort has returned!"

"Be that as it may, she is not the only one who thinks this way!" said Dumbledore.  "Many of the people who sided with Cornelius are still siding with him even after his death!  Do not forget that she had a _Healer_ at St. Mungo's who was waiting for her signal!"

"What are you saying?" Lupin said tensely.  "That Fudge's faction is binding together again?"

"I am saying that it never came completely unbound," said Dumbledore.

Sirius scrubbed one hand through his dark hair.  "I thought we were only going to have _one_ enemy from now on."

"We will get into this in more detail at the meeting," said Dumbledore, glancing at the clock on the wall.  "It is time to go."

Harry, Sirius, and Lupin left the table full of food for the huge fireplace at the far end of the breakfast room.  "The usual place?" said Sirius, taking a handful of Floo powder from the urn next to the hearth.

"Indeed," said Dumbledore.

Sirius sighed loudly.  He flung the powder into the fireplace, stepped into the green flames, clearly said, "Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place!" and vanished.

"Where?" said Harry.

"Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place," Dumbledore repeated.  "Sirius grew up there."

"Oh!" said Harry, immediately intrigued.

"Tread lightly on the subject of his parents," Lupin said somberly.  "By the time Sirius was an upperclassman at Hogwarts he didn't get on well with them.  Visiting his old home isn't a pleasant experience for him."

"Ah... okay," Harry said, though his face bore a quizzical expression.  "So... where are his parents now?"

"Dead," Dumbledore said bluntly.  "You next, please."

Harry threw some Floo powder into the fireplace, repeated the name of the Blacks' house, and felt his body go spinning away.  He remembered Mrs. Weasley's advice from his first trip by Floo and tucked his elbows in.  It helped a little bit with the nausea that was rising in his stomach, albeit not enough.  Harry didn't much care for this method of travel, but at times like these, there was nothing to be done about it.

Harry's body stopped whirling and he queasily opened his eyes.  He was standing in a dark, dusty dining room.  A cobwebbed chandelier hung from the carved ceiling; the crystals that hung from its arms were almost opaque with grime.  A long table with a dozen chairs sat directly beneath the chandelier.  All the pieces of furniture had clawed feet.  Here and there a painting hung on the wall, so covered in dust and dirt that their subjects were unseen.  The whole place had a dark and ominous feel to it.

Harry took it all in with apprehension.  What sort of parents had Sirius had?

"Welcome," said Sirius from beside the fireplace, "to my happy boyhood home."  His sarcasm made it clear that he was not happy to be there.

Lupin suddenly appeared in the fireplace, followed soon after by Dumbledore.  Neither of them paid any mind to the odd surroundings.  "Come," Dumbledore said briskly.  "This way."

Harry followed the adults through a doorway and out into a hall where a few wizards were standing about talking.  One and all they raised their hands and voices in greeting, but Harry barely noticed.  He was looking at a tall wood and glass display case that was made to fit into a corner, the sort that Muggles would display china or figurines in.  This one was full of strange objects.  There were silver boxes inscribed with letters Harry couldn't read, several finger rings set with colorful stones, a long, black wand, a crystal ball supported by a metal hand, and a crystal decanter filled with a red liquid that Harry didn't dare speculate on.  The thing that made him gasp in surprise, though, was a coppery-colored, close fitting circle made of two sinuous, out of phase waves.

"You have a Constrictor!" Harry exclaimed aloud.  "Sirius, what…?"

"My parents were not the nicest of people," his godfather said solemnly.

"Dumbledore said he knew where two were besides the one Mr. Malfoy had," said Harry, thinking back to the day he, Ron, and Professor McGonagall had appeared before the Wizengamot.  "This is one of them."

"Yes," said Lupin, eyeing Dumbledore, who had moved off to speak with some of the others.

"Well, why don't you destroy it?" Harry said in confusion.

"Most of these things I think we would destroy," said Lupin, eyeing the objects in the case.  "The Constrictor, though… I'm not sure.  Voldemort has Singers, too.  Besides, this house is vanishing from memory.  We don't think that the Death Eaters even remember that it exists, which makes it ideal for holding meetings and keeping objects we don't want to be found."

Harry furrowed his brow, not entirely satisfied with Lupin's answer.  He was prevented from asking further questions by the sight of a figure with curly brown hair walking past the doorway at the far end of the hall.

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed.

She poked her head back into the doorway and her face broke into a smile.  "Harry!"  Before Harry could move she had run down the hall to seize his hand.  "Oh, I know it's only been a few hours since I saw you last, but it feels like it's been days!  We were so worried when you vanished like that!  You're all right?" she said anxiously.

"He's more than all right," Sirius said proudly.  "He fought and he won."

"You fought?" Hermione said in confusion.  "But... your uncle broke your wand..."

"Harry!" said Mrs. Weasley, bustling up to them.  "Dumbledore said you were well, but my goodness, it's good to see it for myself.  Come inside, all of you.  The meeting's about to start."  And she hurried off again, pulling Sirius and Lupin along with her.  Harry and Hermione were left alone by the display case.

"I guess I'll have to tell you about it later," Harry said quietly.  "How is it that you're here?"

"Mr. Weasley Apparated into my parents' living room," Hermione replied.  "He brought me."  She looked over at the strange objects in the case and shuddered.  "This is quite a house," she said.  "Mrs. Weasley gave me the impression that they just hadn't gotten around to cleaning it out.  The whole thing's filthy."

"How long have you been here?" said Harry.  It sounded like Hermione knew a lot more about Sirius' house than he did.

"Not long," she said.  "Long enough to hear some things, though.  Ron's here, did you know?  And so are the twins.  They're seeking admission to the Order, but I don't think they're going to get it today.  They've got a reputation for being irresponsible."

Harry and Hermione had been moving while they talked and now they were standing inside a large, dark-paneled drawing room that was lit with oil lamps and candles.  The air was filled with the low buzzing sound made by the quiet conversation of the witches and wizards within.  Harry recognized most of them.  There was Calvin Featherstone, the barrister who had argued Professor Thornby's case before the Wizengamot.  Kingsley Shacklebolt was sitting with Tonks who waved at Harry and Hermione as they passed by.  Bellaton was there, standing by himself with a grim expression on his face.  Professor McGonagall was speaking with Snape in a corner while Hagrid looked on.  And there, on the far side of the room, was a cluster of people with flaming red hair.  Mr. Weasley was there, apparently giving instructions to Fred and George who were sitting impatiently on a pair of stools.  Harry recognized their older brother Bill who was talking with Ron.

"Hey!" said Ron, jumping to his feet.  "What _happened _to you?  Dad's been less than forthcoming!"

"You'll hear all about it in a few minutes," said Mr. Weasley, coming up to stand beside Ron.  "Hello again, Harry.  I'm surprised you're still awake, what with everything that's happened tonight."

"We _could_ have heard about it a few hours ago if Dad would only deign to tell us," said George.

"I don't see what all the fuss was about," said Fred.  "Harry is notorious for being hard to kill, you know."

"Actually, my uncle wasn't interested in killing me," said Harry.

"Did he really want to hold you for ransom?" said George.

"Yeah," said Harry.

"Bugger!" said Ron.  "What a family!"

"Are you absolutely certain you're related?" said Bill, reaching forward to shake Harry's hand.

Featherstone interrupted their pleasantries.  The barrister walked into the center of the room, unrolled a long parchment, and intoned, "This meeting of the Order of the Phoenix will now begin.  The house has been sealed for silence.  Albus Dumbledore will preside."

Harry could see Tonks rolling her eyes from across the room.  To his amusement, Snape did the same only with much more irritation.  "He says that every time," Mr. Weasley softly explained to Harry, Ron, Hermione and the twins.

"Thank you, Calvin," said Dumbledore, settling himself into a chair.  "First things first.  We have five visitors among us: Fred, George, and Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter."  Some of the Order members nodded in greeting; others smiled.  Dumbledore turned to the students and the twins and addressed them.  "You have been asked here for two reasons: to learn who you can trust, and to hear information we think you need to know.  Let me introduce the members that you are not acquainted with."  Dumbledore named Sturgis Podmore, Mundungus Fletcher and Dedalus Diggle, the last whom Harry vaguely remembered from his first visit to the Leaky Cauldron.  He also pointed out Emmeline Vance, one of the witches who had accompanied Harry to St. Mungo's that very evening.  Tonks and Kingsley Harry already knew, but the twins did not.

"There are just a few others who are not here," said Dumbledore, "and there are five whom you will never meet.  Elphias, Shirley, Hestia, Malcolm and Gordon were lost in the recent battle."  The Order members all dropped their eyes.  Dumbledore was as solemn as Harry had ever seen him.  "Five gone, and yet the rest of us will remain strong," the headmaster said.  "Our friends will not be forgotten."

"Well said," said Mad-Eye Moody, raising his hip flask as if raising a glass in tribute.  Most of the Order seemed strengthened by Dumbledore's words, but Lupin looked thoroughly miserable.

A few moments of reverent silence passed before Dumbledore spoke again.  "Well.  It is time to move ahead," he said briskly.  "Harry, would you be so kind as to relate the events of this evening to the Order?"

Harry blinked in surprise; that had been quick.  No one was stopping to grieve long for their fallen comrades.  Then again, they had had two weeks to get somewhat used to the loss.  The Order members looked at Harry expectantly.  Ron, Hermione, and the twins wore their curiosity plainly on their faces.  Dumbledore hadn't really given him a choice.  Feeling nervous, Harry adjusted his seat on his stool and began.  "Well, when we got off the train at Kings Cross my uncle was there waiting for me…"

He told the story as matter-of-factly as possible, omitting his enraged outbursts but including everything his uncle and Madeleine Jenkins had said.  Everyone seemed appropriately shocked at the motive for the kidnapping and impressed with the way Harry had handled the situation.  When he described how the witch had sent a signal to Healer Murphy the Order members began murmuring unhappily.  "What exactly did she do?" Harry asked.

"Judging by your description, she broke a warning glass," said Dumbledore.  "If I am not mistaken they were first used in the Auror corps."

"You are correct," said Kingsley in his deep bass.  "Once they were used as signals between lookouts and squads.  They haven't been used by British Aurors in some time, though.  I don't know who still manufactures them, though I suppose the process must be written down somewhere."

"Unless we stumble across the maker in the dark, I don't know that we'll ever find them," Bellaton said flatly from his corner of the room.  Harry gave the big Singer an uneasy look.  Bellaton had not been acting like himself lately; usually he was pleasant and cheerful, not at all fatalistic.

"I do not think that we need to focus on the warning glass at this time," said Dumbledore.  "More important is the fact that Miss Jenkins is still following Cornelius' ideology after his death, and that she had an accomplice."

"And based on what Potter said, she has many more," said Emmeline Vance.  "A faction of Fudge's supporters is still actively operating against us."

"That much seems clear, yes," said Dumbledore.

"How many members could there be?" said Dedalus Diggle in a squeaky voice.  "I don't believe that all the Ministry officials who sided with Cornelius were as rabid as he was."

"Hard to say," Sirius said darkly.  "But Jenkins indicated that she had sympathizers in all areas of the government, including the Auror corps."

"Not unlike us," said Bill.

"Was Jenkins the leader?" asked Snape.  A general silence followed as the Order members considered the possibilities.  Harry glanced at Ron, Hermione, and the twins and saw that all four of them were watching the meeting with rapt attention.

"I have a theory," said Dumbledore after a moment, "that Dolores Umbridge is the group's leader."

"Umbridge?" Snape scoffed.  "Who would follow that pink toad?"

"No," said Professor McGonagall, "I think you may be right, Albus.  She has practically dropped off the radar since Cornelius died.  By Merlin's beard, her ambition was matched only by her fanaticism.  Unless it were Bellatrix Lestrange, I can't think of any other woman who could make my skin crawl so."

"She's been lying low since before that, actually," said Tonks, and everyone looked at her.  "Kingsley and I have been keeping a special eye on her.  It started after the Gala."

"If she is the head of this underground faction, then she is living a double life," said Kingsley.  "We have some evidence that she may be a Death Eater."

"But… she doesn't believe Voldemort exists!" Ron burst out.  He turned red as he realized what he'd done.  "Sorry," he muttered under his breath.

"Don't be," said Kingsley.  "True, she says that, but it's easy to say one thing and do another.  Who knows - she may have actually believed that at one time, but I must agree with Minerva.  Based on what I know of her, it would have been easy for Voldemort to tempt her.  She is most unsavory."

"What evidence do you have?" said Sturgis Podmore.

"She vanished from the Ministry on the eighteenth of May at about two o'clock," said Tonks.  "She didn't return for nearly two hours.  Lucius Malfoy and Walden Macnair were also nowhere to be found during that time.  We've seen two other such coordinated absences."

"She has been spotted in Knockturn Alley," said Kingsley.

"We also have it on good authority that she's been putting pressure on a member of the Wizengamot to get Malfoy and Macnair released from prison on a technicality," Tonks added.  "It's only been two weeks since their arrest."

"Don't forget her personality," said Kingsley.  "She's cruel.  She likes to be in control.  She likes power, and Fudge probably wasn't giving her enough.  Voldemort will nurse and indulge those desires."

"And then there's the last," said Tonks, exchanging glances with Kingsley.  "We believe she was at the botched execution."

"With Fudge?" said Mrs. Weasley.

"With Voldemort," said Kingsley.

The Order members murmured amongst themselves.  "I didn' see her there," said Hagrid.

"Neither did I," said Sturgis, and many of the others voiced their agreement.

"We all saw Malfoy, Macnair, and Blake," said Kingsley.

"And the Lestranges, and Grayson, and –" Emmeline began, but Kingsley stopped her.

"_Before_ Voldemort showed up," he said.  "There was another person standing with Blake before he stepped into the light.  There were four Death Eaters, but we only saw three."

Harry frowned, thinking back to the night in question.  It had happened such a short time ago that the memories were still fresh.  He had had time to look carefully at the graveyard while Fudge had been waiting for Percy to arrive.  Fudge had been there with Mr. Malfoy and Macnair.  He'd been able to pick out the dementors in the shadows by their great height; Professor Thornby had been with them.  And then there had been two other figures just outside the reach of the torchlight, one of whom had turned out to be Fergus Blake…

"He's right," Harry said quietly.  "And the fourth person was very short."

The room grew quiet again.  It made sense; Fudge had not known who his friends were really working for.  If he hadn't suspected Malfoy and Macnair of being Death Eaters, then why would he have suspected Umbridge?

"We may have to increase the watch on Dolores to be certain of her affiliation," said Dumbledore.  "Accusing someone of being a Death Eater is a serious matter; I want to be certain of this."

"Was she present at the interrogation of Malfoy and Lestrange?" Moody grated.

"No.  Thank heaven she was not," said Dumbledore.

"Good," said Moody, "because then she might have followed the same logic as Jenkins."

Dumbledore turned to look at the younger listeners.  "I am afraid that this is all we can allow you to hear," he said.  "We are beginning to touch on topics that are strictly Order business."

Harry felt a flash of irritation.  He was of the opinion that Professor Thornby was very much his business, and if they were going to discuss what Madeleine Jenkins had figured out during that interrogation, then it meant that his guardian was next on the Order's agenda.

"Are you speaking to our underage companions or to all of us?" George said boldly.

"George," Mrs. Weasley said dangerously.

"All of you, I am afraid," said Dumbledore with a small smile.

"It was worth a try, anyway," Fred muttered to his twin.

"Wait outside for us," said Mr. Weasley.  "I don't think we'll be more than an hour."

Harry, his friends, and the twins all stood reluctantly and walked the length of the room to the two heavy wooden doors they had entered through.  "Chin up," Dumbledore said with a wry smile.  "Some of what we say here you will learn.  What we say in between will be left to us."

The students smiled half-heartedly and left the room, having no other choice.  Tonks gave them all a sympathetic smile and gently closed the heavy doors, hiding the Order members from view.


	3. A Happy Boyhood Home

**A/N: **Whew!  Here is chapter three!  You will all notice many similarities between this and Order of the Phoenix which is, of course, intentional... mostly.  As I'm sure you've noticed I tend to blend J.K. Rowling's ideas with my own.  (Insert disclaimer here; the characters I create are mine.)  I do want to say that there's a little scene with Tonks at the end of the chapter that is very similar to the book but was _unintentionally _made so.  I didn't realize how much it was like the book until I opened it up to check something and ran across it.  Oh, well – I'm leaving it as is for the moment.  I'll probably change some details later; that's all I think I'll need to do.

I hope I'm not in the doghouse with too many readers; I seem to have lost some of my more faithful reviewers.  

athenakitty: A wand holster?  Heh – that's actually a pretty fun idea.  :-)

procrastinator: You know, getting it all planned out is a lot harder than I thought it would be!

InfiniteThinking: Wow, I think it's great that someone actually checked out the changes!  Here's your next chapter, and thanks for the review!

capncrunchnotthecereal: Will this chapter be really good or not any good?  I guess that's up to you.  I'm really glad you're still with me!

Jemma Blackwell: Aw, another great reviewer who's still around!  And I completely agree – keeping Harry in the dark is what made him surly in Phoenix in the first place.

Rob: I hope this was quick enough for you, and good luck with the exams!

padfootfe: Thank you so much!  I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 3: A Happy Boyhood Home

Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down on the old wooden staircase in defeat.  Fred leaned forward and put his ear against the crack between the doors to the drawing room.  "Nothing," he said unhappily.  "They've put up a Silencing Charm."

"Try this," said George, pulling a long piece of flesh-colored string from his pocket.

"I don't think it'll work, but…" said Fred, putting one end of the string in his ear and the other up against the space between the bottom of the door and the floorboards.  "No – there's nothing," he said, pocketing the string.

"I see the need for a second version of this product," said George.

"What _is_ that thing?" said Hermione.

"Extendable Ears," said Fred.  "A recent invention of ours."

"You've invented something that works?" she said, perking up a bit.

"It didn't work," Ron said smugly.  "They couldn't hear anything."

"Oh, they work," said Fred.  "They let you stand in one room and hear a conversation in another.  It's like leaving your ear behind, you see.  They just can't hear through any of those annoying spells that block sound."  He gave the closed doors a black glare.

"So they're made for eavesdropping," said Harry.

George winked at him.  "Brilliant, Holmes."

Ron shook his head with an expression of wonder.  "You're really serious about this, aren't you?" he said.

"About the joke shop?  Of course we're serious," said George.  "We've been scouting for locations in Diagon Alley.  We've actually found one we think will work; it's near Eyelops Owl Emporium.  I expect we'll be snapping it up soon enough."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all made exclamations of excitement.  Harry was especially happy; he considered this an especially good use of his Triwizard Tournament winnings.  "Wow," said Ron.  "My brothers, the entrepreneurs."

"Don't tell Mum," Fred added.  "We're going to spring the news on her when it's too late for her to do anything about it.  Maybe by then she'll have warmed up to the idea."

"Fat chance," Ron muttered.

"I hope you don't find this question too rude," said Hermione, "but where did you get the money for this?  I don't think property in Diagon Alley is cheap."

"We have an investor," said George.

Harry frowned slightly.  Investor?  He had meant the thousand Galleons for a gift.  He knew a little bit about investing from being forced to listen to Uncle Vernon dominate the dinner conversation for fifteen years; investors put money into a company expecting it to make a profit.  Then the company paid their investors a portion of their earnings.  _Dividends, wasn't it?_ thought Harry.  In any case, the Triwizard Tournament prize was blood money as far as he was concerned.  His parents had certainly left him enough to get started in life, so he wasn't at all tempted to keep even one Knut of that prize.  He made a mental note to talk to the twins about the matter as soon as possible.

"An _investor_?" Ron said incredulously.  "How'd you get someone to invest when you haven't got a product yet?"

"Well, we've got these fantastic Extendable Ears," said Fred.  "But that's not the only thing we've been working on, little brother."

"All right, then.  What else have you got?" said Ron, crossing his arms.

"As certain as we are that you would _never_ reveal our trade secrets –"

"- not even under torture –"

"- we're not going to tell you," said George.  "Projects in development remain strictly between us until we're ready to test them."

"Well, wait a minute," said Fred.  "Maybe we could tell him about the S.S's.  We're about ready to declare them fit for human consumption, right?"

"Fit for human consumption?" said Hermione in horrified tones.

"S.S's?" said Harry.

"I suppose we could spill the beans," said George.  "But Ron has to swear he won't go tattling to Mum and Dad.  Or any adult," he amended.

"I think Hermione should swear too," said Fred.  "Remember how she got Harry's Firebolt confiscated because she thought it came from the mass murderer Sirius Black?"

"I don't tattle!" Ron said indignantly just as Hermione said, "It _did_ come from him!  I was right!  He just wasn't a mass murderer is all."

"Yeah.  A minor point," Harry teased.

"How come you're not getting on Harry's case?" said Hermione.

"I think Harry appreciates the value of a good joke," said George, winking at Harry.

"Hold on, here.  _I_ grew up with you two lunatics," said Ron.  "If anyone can appreciate the value of one of your jokes it's me, especially since you used to use me as your guinea pig!"

"You didn't find the teddy spider very funny," said Fred.  "That was one of our best efforts."

"It gave me a phobia!" said Ron.

"Which is just why I'm thinking we were right not to tell you our secrets," said George.  "You're obviously gunning for some payback."

"Oh, I am," Ron said darkly, "but I'm not going to screw up your business to get it, so you can go ahead and tell me."

"What about you, Hermione?" said Fred.  "Can we trust you?"

"This smacks of making a deal with the devil," she said suspiciously.

"Miss Granger," George said solemnly, "we would never make anything to cause people harm."

"Well, not serious harm," said Fred.

"Fred!" Hermione cried in exasperation.

"Look, it's just that when you make something edible you have to make extra sure that it's not dangerous.  That's what I meant by the whole 'fit for human consumption' thing," said Fred.  "Our products won't hurt people, we swear."

Hermione sighed.  "Oh, all right.  I won't go telling anyone about your joke.  So what is it?"

"They're Skiving Snackboxes!" George said triumphantly.  "Stuck in a tedious History of Magic lesson?  Don't feel like slaving over a stinking stew in Potions?  Skive off with a Snackbox."

"So far we've got Nosebleed Nougats, Puking Pastilles, and Fainting Fancies," said Fred.

"_What_?" said Hermione, plainly shocked.

"How do they work?" said Harry, intrigued.

"Well, take the Nosebleed Nougat, for example," said George.  "Chew it up and swallow it down and in ten minutes you're guaranteed a nosebleed."

"Bloody brilliant!" said Ron.  "Ha – that's a pun, isn't it?"

"That's _horrible_!" Hermione exclaimed.

"You'll make a fortune," said Harry.

"That's what we're counting on," said Fred.

"How can you be sure you won't make someone bleed to death?" Hermione demanded.  Harry was fairly sure that she was regretting her promise already.

"Didn't we tell you they wouldn't do serious harm?" said George.  "It's a very minor bleed.  It stops after five minutes."

"Getting it to work properly _was_ a little tricky, though," Fred admitted.

"Filch will have them banned before you can say 'detention'," said Hermione.

George shrugged.  "Maybe.  But I'm sure they'll have a glorious run at Hogwarts before the teachers catch on!"

They talked about the twins' ambitions and their inventions until the subject wore out.  As they stopped contributing to the conversation, one by one they became aware of the dead silence around them.   In the quiet moment that followed everyone strained to catch the faintest sound from behind the closed doors, but there was nothing.  Hermione yawned and leaned her cheek against the carved wooden poles that supported the banister.  Harry was feeling very sleepy himself; even without tussling with Madeleine Jenkins it still would have been a long day.

"I wonder how long they're going to be," Hermione said wearily.

"Yeah.  If we were inside I'd say let's go on all night, but as it is..." said George.

"If only they hadn't kicked us out," Ron sighed.  "Now it's midnight, we're stuck in a creepy old house, and we've got nothing to do because we can't eavesdrop."

The light of inspiration dawned on the twins' faces at the same moment; it was almost comical to see.  They turned to look at each other with broad grins on their faces.  "Midnight in a creepy old house?  Someone tell me exactly what's boring about that," said Fred.

"Come on – let's have a look around," said George.

Harry felt himself wake up a bit.  The twins were right – there was probably a lot to see here, especially since it didn't look as if the house had been cleaned properly in some time.  It would certainly be a lot more entertaining than just sitting on the stairs and waiting for Sirius and Lupin to come out of the meeting.  Then again, Harry had no idea how Sirius would feel about their poking around.  Based on his reaction to the house in general, it could go either way.

Ron perked up at the twins' suggestion while Hermione had reservations.  "I don't know," she said.  "By the looks of things, Sirius' parents were Dark wizards.  Who knows what kinds of nasty surprises are lurking in their cabinets?"

"Well, let's not open the cabinets, then," said George.  "There's no harm in just looking.  Besides, how often do you get the chance to explore a Dark wizard's house?  It'll be like snooping around Malfoy Manor."

Hermione had to admit that it was a unique opportunity.  Harry, who found his curiosity getting the better of him, began to think that just looking couldn't possibly do any harm, and he agreed to an expedition.

"Well, you sure don't have to go far to get started," said Fred, walking over to the display case in the corner.  "Look at all this weird stuff!"  The others, feeling more awake now that they had something to do, followed quickly.

"What's it all for, do you think?" said Hermione.

"Ugh, is that blood?" said Ron, looking at the crystal decanter.

"Who knows," said George.  "Going by the rest of this house, though, it wouldn't surprise me."

"The writing on the boxes is Cyrillic," said Hermione.  "Unfortunately, I can't read it."

"Cyrillic?" said Ron.

"Russian," Hermione clarified.

"What, Vicky didn't teach you any?" Ron sniped.

Hermione turned up her nose.  "He taught me how to _say_ a few things.  Reading Russian is another matter entirely."

"I'll bet the rings are cursed," said George.

"Want to find out?" said Fred.

"No!" Harry and Hermione shouted together.

"Seriously," said Harry, "there's one thing in that case that I _know_ is bad.  Don't open it."

Ron gave his friend a quizzical look and turned to scrutinize the objects inside.  When his eyes fell on the shiny collar they widened in surprise.  "Where did they get that?" he said in awe.

"What?" Fred said eagerly.

"The Constrictor," said Ron, pointing at the object in question.

The twins' smiles vanished.  "No kidding?" George said quietly.

"That's what Lucius Malfoy had at Professor Thornby's hearing," said Ron.

"If the Order is having meetings here, why don't they get rid of it?" said Hermione in disbelief.  "Why would they want to take the chance that someone else could get their hands on it?"

"They don't think anyone else will," said Harry, and he told them what Lupin had said.

Hermione and Ron exchanged a critical glance.  "I don't know," said Hermione.  "This thing is evil.  How could the Order even consider using it on anyone?"

"Don't you think a Death Eater Singer would deserve it?" said Ron.  "With this thing we could be guaranteed that they wouldn't hurt anyone else."

Hermione shook her head.  "Using this on someone – no matter how wicked they were – would be like using the Dark Arts," she said.  "Think about it.  If Dumbledore had used the Unforgivables to defeat Grindelwald all those years ago, how would he be any better than a Dark wizard?"

"He wouldn't have enjoyed using the Unforgivables, that's how," said Ron.

"Maybe, but there's a reason the Dark Arts are called by that name," said Hermione.  "They're all about having control over other people.  I think that once you get a taste of that kind of power it's hard to let go of it.  It poisons you."

"You sound like a philosopher," said George.

Hermione shrugged.  "History is littered with people who meant well but thought that the ends justified the means.  I think that no matter how good your intentions are, the Dark Arts get the best of you in the end."

No one said anything.  They all looked at the Constrictor, so simple and unassuming in its glass case.  At first glance it looked harmless – just two coppery waves forming a circle.  It could have just been an odd piece of jewelry to the untrained eye.  But then Harry thought of Professor Thornby's reaction when confronted with it.  Before that day he'd seen her sad, angry, and coolly standoffish, but never afraid.  She had been afraid that day.  The longer Harry looked at the Constrictor the more sinister the glinting metal became.  When push came to shove, it was a tiny little cage just waiting to ensnare another victim.

"They can't use it," Hermione said stubbornly.  "It's evil.  It'll just make more evil unless it's destroyed."

"Come on," George said quietly.  "Let's go look at something else."

Everyone was more than happy to leave the collar behind in search of something else, and they wandered into a sort of sitting room with several straight-backed chairs and a molding chaise-lounge.  Just like in the dining room the chandelier was hung with cobwebs.

"Look at this door handle," said Fred.  "It's a snake's head!"

"How much do you want to bet that Sirius comes from a long line of Slytherins?" said Ron.

Harry looked around the dark room and shuddered.  Ron had been right in his first assessment of the house – it _was_ creepy.  Harry couldn't imagine growing up in a place like this.  If he'd had the choice between Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place and Number Four, Privet Drive, he would have taken Privet Drive.

Fred and George had lit their wand tips in order to see better.  Harry didn't have a wand and Ron and Hermione weren't allowed to use theirs outside of school, so the twins picked up some tarnished candlesticks and lit the tapers they held.  Hermione immediately began peering at an iron bookstand that held a heavy old tome while Ron joined his brothers in peeking into shadowy corners.  Harry simply stood in the middle of the room and looked about uneasily until something on the far wall caught his eye.  At first he thought it was just wallpaper, but as he moved closer the flickering light from his candle revealed writing.  A huge tapestry was stretched from the ceiling to the floor.  There were names all over it connected to each other with golden thread.  At the very top were the words "The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black – Toujours Pur".

"Hey, look!" said Harry.  "It's Sirius' family tree!"

The others crowded around with their candles and glowing wands.  "Wow," said Fred, leaning in closer to look at a name.  "This family goes back for centuries!"

"Have you found Sirius?" said Hermione.  "He'd be near the bottom, I think."

Everyone bent down to look.  The last name in the lower right-hand corner of the tapestry was Regulus Black, to the right of which were two dates, apparently birth and death.  Gold thread ran up and to the left of the name, connecting it to other people.  Above Regulus were the names Rigel Black and Furia Macnair, who were connected by a double gold line and were also deceased.  The line to the left of Regulus, however, ended at what appeared to be a large burn mark.

"That's funny," said George.  "It looks like there used to be a name here, but I don't see Sirius anywhere."

"There are other burns on the tapestry," said Hermione.  "Here, see?  Next to Rigel."  She ran her fingertips swiftly over the woven surface.  "And here's another, next to… oh, my!" she exclaimed.

Everyone looked where her hand had stopped.  There were several names in line with another burn mark – Bellatrix Black, who was connected with two gold lines to Rodolphus Lestrange, and Narcissa Black, who was linked to Lucius Malfoy.  Beneath Narcissa and Lucius was Draco's name.

The group took in the names in stunned silence.  Harry thought he was beginning to understand why Sirius loathed his family so much.  Whether his name was on the tapestry or not, he was related to some of the most horrid people in the wizarding world.

As he looked at the damning evidence a memory came floating back to Harry.  "You know that Bellatrix stabbed Sirius, right?  At the execution," he said quietly.  The others nodded.  "She called him 'cousin'."

Ron and Hermione's mouths fell open.  "Why didn't you tell us?" said Ron.

Harry shook his head.  "I forgot," he said.  "I mean, I was surprised enough at the time, but two seconds later I had bigger things to worry about, like the fact that I was completely at Bellatrix's mercy.  And you know what happened after that."

"I think I see what's going on here," said Hermione.  "The double lines mark a marriage.  A single line marks family by birth.  Children go below the parents.  So if Sirius is Bellatrix Lestrange's cousin that would put him… here."  She pointed to the burn mark.  "He's been removed, and Regulus must have been his brother.  But Regulus is dead, and so are his parents," she finished softly.

"Sirius never mentioned a brother," said Harry in wonder.  "Of course, he's never mentioned the rest of his family, either."

"But who would take his name off his family tree?" said Ron.

Hermione shook her head.  "I don't know."

"Well, Sirius obviously isn't a typical Black, is he?" said Fred.  "If his Death Eater relatives are still there, then it sure says something about whoever burned Sirius' name off."

"This place is one big barrel of laughs, isn't it?" George said dryly.

"Come on, let's keep looking," said Ron.  "At least it'll help us stay awake."

They didn't dare going upstairs after what they had already seen, so the five explorers kept moving in the same direction.  They found a kitchen which was refreshingly unremarkable save for the layers of grime and a teapot that rattled ominously from its place on the hearth.  There was a reading room with more molding upholstery and a few low bookshelves; only Hermione took much interest in the titles which she described as "very unpleasant".  They found a painting of a stern-looking man that, unlike most portraits in the magical world, was not moving.  He had a bony face, black hair streaked with gray, and sharp, dark eyes.  His mouth was twisted just enough to give the suggestion of a sneer.  The frame was as dusty as the rest of the house, and Fred had to rub his finger along the bottom to reveal the nameplate – Rigel Black.

Easily the most gruesome discovery they made was that of a row of stuffed house-elf heads hanging on plaques on a wall.  The twins looked thoroughly repulsed while Hermione gasped and covered her mouth with both hands.  She looked nearly ready to cry.  Harry and Ron exchanged unhappy glances, feeling certain that this would mean a rebirth of S.P.E.W.  Though the display of taxidermy was pitiful, neither had the desire to listen to another treatise on the rights of house-elves.

By the time they came to the dining room with the fireplace for traveling, everyone was feeling more than a little bit downhearted.  He knew it was childish, but Harry couldn't help thinking that some nasty Dark creature was lurking in the shadows just waiting to leap out at them all.  The whole house gave him the shivers.

"Maybe it's not so bad in the daytime," said Ron, looking nervously at the long, dark table with the clawed feet.

"Maybe," George said dubiously, "but I'm starting to think that even Draco Malfoy would find this place depressing."

"He's _family_," Fred snorted.  "I think he'd be just fine here."

Suddenly Hermione jumped a foot into the air.  She stared around the room with wide eyes, clutching her hand to her chest.  She made Harry think of a cat with its tail gone all bushy.  "I heard something!" she exclaimed.

"I think we need to get you back to the stairs," said Fred in a tone of voice usually reserved for the very young.

"No – there's something here!" she insisted.  "There, in that corner!"

"O-kay.  This house is getting to all of us," said George.  "Now we're jumping at shadows –"

"What's that?" Ron gasped.

Fred rolled his eyes.  "Oh, no.  Not you too," he said.  "Is oo afwaid of the dark, Ickle Wonniekins?"

George laughed and seemed about to chime in when he froze and his eyes opened wide.  Fred and Harry went still as stone, for they heard it, too – a rustling sound in the far corner of the room.  They waited in silence, ears straining for the faintest whisper, unable to move.  Harry could feel blood pounding in his ears.

"_Mistress is not wanting the infidels touching her things…_"

The raspy voice that suddenly sounded from the corner shocked them all to the core.  Harry heard the sharp intake of breath around him which was sure to be followed by the sound of terrified shouting in a split second…

A loud crash suddenly sounded out in the hall followed by a woman's piercing shrieks.  "FILTH!  SLIME!  HOW DARE THESE ABOMINATIONS SULLY MY HOUSE!"

The loud noises broke the spell and Harry, Ron, Hermione and the twins practically fell out of the dining room and into the hall.

"Oh, Tonks, for heaven's sake!" Moody's voice boomed.

"I'm sorry!" Tonks cried.  "I tripped!"

"QUIT MY DOMICILE AT ONCE, YOU CONSPIRING RATS –"

"Cover it up!"

"Tonks, get out of the way!"

"Aaugh!  My foot's caught in the door –"

"THE FAMILY HAS BEEN BESMIRCHED BY THIS TRESPASS!  FILTHY HALF-BLOODS!"

The shrieking was coming from a life size portrait of a wild old woman that Harry hadn't noticed before.  It hung at the end of the hallway just outside the doors to the drawing room where the meeting had been taking place.  Tonks was sprawled on the floor; Sirius and Kingsley were struggling to get past her.

"YOU!" the woman screeched when Sirius staggered in front of it with a snarl on his face.  "YOU DISGRACE TO THE NAME OF BLACK, HOW DARE YOU ENTER THIS HOUSE, YOU ARE NO SON OF MINE –"

"Shut up, Mother!" Sirius bellowed.  He seized two black velvet curtains that hung on either side of the portrait and yanked them shut.  The woman's shrieks immediately ceased.

"Tonks, that is the last time you open the doors," sighed Professor McGonagall.

"If I hadn't tripped on the floorboards it just would've been something else," Tonks said ruefully.  "A vase, an umbrella stand, my own feet…"

"She's a bit of a klutz," explained grizzled Mundungus Fletcher, seeing the five shocked students at the other end of the hall.  He bent to help the fallen Auror to her feet.

"Yes, and it's not a trait one wants to have as an Auror," Tonks added.  "Oooh, I'm going to have a nasty bruise tomorrow."

"Who… who was that?" said Harry, the first of his group to find his voice.

"Mommie Dearest, that's who," said Sirius, giving the covered portrait a venomous glare.  "We don't much care for one another."

"Does she always do that?" Hermione said breathlessly.

"Yes," Sirius said matter-of-factly.  "That's why we keep her covered up."

"Why don't you take her down?" said Fred.

"We think she used a Permanent Sticking charm to keep herself there," said Mrs. Weasley, coming out into the hall.  "Of course you know all about Permanent Sticking charms, don't you, boys?"

The twins grinned impishly at one another.  "We can't imagine what you mean, Mum."

Mrs. Weasley raised an eyebrow but had no chance to reply as the rest of the Order was filing out into the hall and Disapparating.  Lupin made his way over to Harry and his friends.  "Well – time to go," he said wearily.

"Just like that?" Fred muttered.

"It's one o'clock.  We don't much feel like lingering," said Lupin.  Sirius and the Weasleys joined the group and herded everyone back to the fireplace in the dining room.  Sirius, who seemed especially impatient to leave, picked up a pot of Floo powder and thrust it into Harry's hand.

"Wait a minute!" said Ron.  "When are we going to get to see each other again?  If it's going to be weeks then this is kind of rushed, don't you think?"

"Soon," said Mr. Weasley.  He yawned copiously behind one hand.  "Just take our word for it, son."

Harry gave Ron and Hermione a helpless look, reached into the pot, and pulled out a handful of powder.  He knew they felt as he did – they wanted to know about this strange old house and all the things they had seen.  There was no telling when they'd be coming back to what was apparently the Order headquarters.  It seemed to Harry that every time he got one question answered it generated a dozen more.

"I guess I'll see you when I see you," he said to his friends.

"Write as soon as you know something," Hermione said quickly, and the Weasley children nodded emphatically.  The adults gave them a collective look of confusion, but none of the students elaborated.  Harry knew what Hermione meant - write as soon as you've gotten some answers out of Sirius.

Harry flung the Floo powder into the fireplace.  "Alverbrooke!" he said, stepped into the green fire, and vanished.


	4. Family Ties

**A/N:** As you've probably noticed, I'm leaving Sirius' background as it was described in Order of the Phoenix.  I still have to introduce it in my story, though, and I have been doing it in the last chapter and here as well.  It is not meant to be thinly-veiled plagiarism.  The only thing that's really different at all is my take on Sirius' father, who was not very well defined in Phoenix.  I have read the book twice but I don't remember the details as well as I did not enjoy it as much as the others.  I go back and reference it when I need to get my facts straight.  That scene in the last chapter with Tonks falling over in the hallway and waking up Mrs. Black... believe it or not, I didn't remember that it happened in the book until I went back and saw it there.  All I knew was that _someone_ woke her up.  Well, as I said, I decided to leave it.  Tonks is just so fun, and it was a good way to introduce her clumsiness (this was established earlier in Phoenix).  Last comment... strong family theme in this chapter, hence the name.

Jemma Blackwell: Thank you so, so much!  I'm really glad you thought the description was good.  Ominous was exactly what I was going for, and you seem to think I hit the nail on the head.

athenakitty: Will Sirius live?  Well, this time I'm not telling.

PhoenixTearsp322: First, thanks for pointing out the error (it is fixed).  It's just the sort of thing that spell check and multiple readings will not catch.  Hee, I'm glad someone else liked the word "Muggley".  I thought it was a great word.  And finally, it's good to have you back!

Infinite Thinking: Thanks!  I think JKR did a great job with Sirius' family history – so intriguing.  I didn't want to change it.

Pepperjack: Yay!  I got another review from you!  No, I don't get tired of people telling me they're enjoying the story, but you don't have to review all the time.  You haven't been so I'm used to that, but I go into withdrawal when the every-chapter regulars go astray.  I know that there are lots of people out there who NEVER review, and I wish they would just once.  It's great to know how many people are reading your work.  Heh... the last chapter of Guardians sure pulled some reviewers out of the woodwork.  Maybe I should make evil cliffhangers more often.

Rob: Ah, enjoy your summer vacation!  I don't get them anymore.  I hope my explanation above helps with the sameness issue.

capncrunchnotthecereal: Yeah, they were probably familiar because they were so much like Book 5!

Chapter 4: Family Ties

Harry awoke late the next morning, well after his usual rising hour.  He washed, dressed, and went downstairs for breakfast where he found Lupin sitting at the table, drinking tea and perusing the _Daily Prophet_.  "Good morning," Lupin said pleasantly, looking up from the paper as Harry sat down.

"Morning," Harry replied, reaching for a piece of toast.  "Where are Sirius and Bellaton?  They're not still asleep, are they?"

"Seeing as you slept in so late yourself, I wonder where you find the nerve to criticize," said Lupin with a smile.  "But then, I suppose yesterday was a rather long day for you.  Ardoc is walking around the grounds.  I doubt Sirius is asleep; he's probably still shaking off the effects of last night's meeting."

"What?" said Harry.

"He's always a bit morose after spending much time in his old house, especially when his mother wakes up," Lupin explained.  "I expect he won't have slept much last night."

"Isn't there anywhere else you could have the meetings?" said Harry.  "Someplace… you know, less painful?"

"As unpleasant as Grimmauld Place is, it's the best location we have," said Lupin.  "It's Unplottable, protected by a Secret-Keeper, and fading from memory on top of that."

"But Sirius is related to Bellatrix Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy!" said Harry.  "They're still around.  Why would they have forgotten about it?"

Lupin raised his eyebrows.  "So the five of you did some looking around last night," he said.  "I suppose you found the tapestry."

"You were the ones who kicked us out of the meeting," said Harry.  "We had nothing else to do."

Lupin waved one hand dismissively.  "No, there's nothing wrong with looking around.  There's some nasty stuff hidden away in the house is all; you wouldn't want to touch anything if you didn't already know what it was for.  Anyway, we're not too worried about Sirius' cousins.  He is among the last surviving members of the house of Black and has long been out of favor with his relatives.  Between the time Sirius' parents died and the Order began using it, no one had set foot inside Grimmauld Place."

"Except for Kreacher," said Sirius, walking into the breakfast room.  He sniffed the air.  "Coffee - thank goodness.  Tell me it's strong, Moony."

"Horribly so," said Lupin.

"Then it will do," said Sirius, taking a seat and pouring himself a cup.  He did look haggard; it seemed that Lupin had been right about his not sleeping.  He took a sip of the hot beverage and leaned back in his chair.  "Almost toxic.  Perfect."

Lupin laughed softly.  "I never understood how you could drink that awful stuff."

"It's a happy little morning jolt," said Sirius with a dry chuckle of his own.

"Who's Kreacher?" Harry said impatiently.  Lupin at least seemed in the mood to explain things, and Harry had a lot of questions that a good night's sleep had not answered.  He was not about to let the conversation devolve into the banal.

"The family house-elf," said Sirius over the rim of his cup.  "He was – and is – completely devoted to Mother.  She's been dead for years now, but that hasn't slowed him down.  All that time alone in the house with just her portrait for company seems to have made him quite insane.  He spends most of his time skulking around, muttering about the leeches who are tainting the house, and conversing with Mother's portrait."

"We heard something in the dining room last night," said Harry.  "It was muttering."

The corner of Sirius' mouth curved up.  "What did it say?"

"Something about infidels and mistress's things."

"Sounds like Kreacher," said Sirius.

"He scared us half to death," said Harry.

"If he weren't tied to the house and to me, I'd be scared of him, too," Sirius admitted.  "He's seen too much of the Order's activities to be released, and believe me, he's none too happy about having to do what _I_ say.  I may be a stain on the family's 'good name' but I still have Black blood, and that means he is bound to serve me."  He smiled mirthlessly.  "It also means that I now own that cesspool of a house and all the foul things it contains."

Harry glanced uncertainly at Lupin who was watching Sirius with a cautious eye.  Sirius was obviously volatile when it came to this subject, and if Lupin was unsure of how to proceed, then Harry was going to tread very lightly.

Sirius barked a short laugh.  "Black blood.  You have no idea how true that really is."

"I saw the tapestry," Harry said quietly.  "I know who your cousins are."

Sirius eyed Harry apprehensively.  "I see.  And what do you think about that?"

Harry was taken aback by the look on his godfather's face.  Sirius seemed to be afraid that Harry would hold his bloodline against him.  "I don't care who your parents were, or your cousins, or your great-grandparents or anybody else," said Harry.  "I just care about you."  It was the unvarnished truth.

There was a tiny smile on Lupin's lips.  His eyes held a mixture of approval, gratitude and simple pride as they gazed at Harry.  Sirius just stared at his godson for a moment before his mouth began to twitch in and out of a grin.  He looked into his coffee cup as he spoke.  "That's… very good of you to say," he said huskily.  "It's just the opposite of what my family thought."

"So… will you tell me about them?  Your family?" Harry asked tentatively.

"What do you want to know?" said Sirius.

"Everything," Harry said fervently.  "Who they were, what they thought, why your name is burned off the tapestry, why you didn't turn out like the rest of them, what happened to your brother –"

"Hold on," said Sirius.  "How do you know about Regulus?  And since my name is missing from the tapestry, how did you know it was ever there?"

Harry explained about what Bellatrix had said at the execution and how Hermione had worked backwards from there.  "I see," said Sirius.  "Well, come on, then – let's go."

"Go?" said Harry.

"To Grimmauld Place," said Sirius.  "There are a lot of people on that tapestry.  It will help you see who I'm talking about."

"Are sure?" said Harry.  "Remus said –"

"It's not quite so bad in the daytime," said Sirius.  "Don't worry, I'll sleep tonight.  I'll be too exhausted not to, and besides, we won't be staying for more than a few minutes.  Are you tagging along, Moony?"

"No," said Lupin.  "Dumbledore will be here soon.  He's bringing Celeste," he explained when Harry gave him an inquisitive look.

"Oh," said Harry.

"I think Ron and Hermione may be coming by as well," Lupin added, and Harry brightened.  "Go on – we'll get into it when you get back."

Harry and Sirius Flooed to Grimmauld Place.  Unlike the night before, the house was quiet and empty.  Of Kreacher there was no sign.

"We probably won't see him," said Sirius when Harry asked about the house-elf.  "He won't speak to me unless it's absolutely necessary."

They made their way to the room where the tapestry hung.  "I don't know what most of the artifacts in the house do," said Sirius as they walked.  "I never got on well with my parents and spent as little time as possible here.  I ran away from home at fourteen, you know."

"You did?" said Harry in astonishment.

Sirius nodded gravely.  "I lived with your father and his parents during the following summers.  I had nowhere else to go; Mother burned my name off the tapestry when I left, so I was officially out of the family.  Not that I'd have come back for any amount of money," he finished bitterly.  "If only she'd remembered to change her will so I wouldn't have been stuck with this place!"

"But it gives the Order a place to meet," said Harry.

"If it wasn't available they'd have found something else," said Sirius.  "Believe me, I'd be happier without my inheritance.  Ah, here we are."  They stopped in front of the giant tapestry.  "See, here's where I used to be."  He pointed to the burn mark near the bottom, right next to Regulus.  "And that's my fool of a brother.  He died around the time I was sent to prison.  It's generally thought that Voldemort killed him; he was a Death Eater, but it doesn't sound like he was a very good one."

"Were your parents Death Eaters?" Harry asked in a hushed voice.

"Mother was not.  That much I know," said Sirius.  "She didn't think it was becoming of a lady to be an assassin – not that she was a lady in any other respect."

Harry gave his godfather an uneasy glance.  The amount of venom in Sirius' words was incredible.  Harry couldn't imagine what it was like to feel such loathing for one's own parents.

Sirius tapped a finger against his cheek.  "Father, now… he might have been a Death Eater.  To the best of my knowledge he was not when I left home, but I didn't keep in touch after that.  It wouldn't surprise me to learn that he was; he and Mother both thought Voldemort knew what he was about.  They hated Muggles and half-bloods, you know, always going on about the 'purity of blood'.  That they thought they were so much better than everyone else was just one of the many things I couldn't stand about them."  He smiled dryly.  "It's funny; the wizards who take the most pride in their bloodline are also the least worth knowing.  The Weasleys are an old family, too.  I'll bet you didn't know that."

"No," said Harry, who was beginning to wonder exactly how many times he could be surprised in twenty-four hours.

"Well they are, but they don't go harping on the subject.  It's a wizard's _character_ that makes him important, not his heritage.  See this burn next to my father?  That's where my Uncle Alphard used to be; also not a typical Black, because _he_ had character as well.  He gave me the money to get my own flat when I graduated from Hogwarts.  And this is where Andromeda should be – she was my favorite cousin.  She still is, I suppose, but I haven't seen her in some time."  He pointed to another blemish between Narcissa and Bellatrix.  "She's their sister, but she married a Muggle named Ted Tonks.  Not a respectable match in the family's eyes."

"Ted _Tonks_?" said Harry.

"Nymphadora is my first cousin once removed," said Sirius.  "Oh, and I'm related to Arthur Weasley, too.  Second cousin once removed, I think."

"Oh," said Harry, feeling slightly dazed.

Sirius went on to point out several other names on the family tree, listing their misdeeds as he went.  There was a woman who had started beheading her house-elves, a headmaster of Hogwarts that no one had liked, a Minister of Magic who had lobbied for the extermination of all half-bloods ("He was promptly assassinated," said Sirius), and a woman who had been high in the ranks of Grindelwald's followers.  "I think Dumbledore may have defeated her himself, but you'd have to ask him," said Sirius.  "So as you can see, I have quite the family.  As you've probably guessed we have a long history with Slytherin House.  My parents were furious when I was put into Gryffindor; there was some discussion of finding another family for me to live with.  Uncle Alphard was the first Black to be put into Gryffindor in almost three hundred years, and they'd been hoping the 'disease' had stopped with him."

Harry's heart went out to his godfather.  He'd never dreamt that they had so much in common, namely, families who didn't want them.  He reached over and pressed Sirius' hand with his own.  "We can go now if you want.  I think I understand now."

Sirius smiled back.  Harry thought his eyes looked a bit misty.  "You blessed child," he said.  "It's kind of funny when you think about it – if I hadn't been such a black sheep I'd never have known your father… or you.  It was a wretched childhood, but I think I'm better off now.  Yes, let's go."  They started back toward the fireplace.

"Why don't you just get rid of all this stuff?" said Harry, looking at a dusty light fixture as they passed.  "I mean, if you threw all this junk away you might not mind coming here so much."

"Cleaning the house up is one of Molly's new projects, I believe," Sirius replied.  "She's been busy lately as we all have, so all we've done so far is try to get Mother's portrait off the wall.  It's such a nuisance."

"'Twasn't Mistress that was the nuisance, it was her good for nothing son, he was dropped on his head at six months, yes he was..."

Harry jumped.  Standing in front of them was the most ancient house-elf he had ever seen.  Its skin was wrinkled and sagging, white hairs were growing out of its huge ears, and it was hunchbacked.  The elf glared up at them with gray eyes that were a bit cloudy.  He was wearing a filthy tea towel about his waist.  Harry did not need to be told that this was Kreacher.

"...never was much of a Black anyway, Mistress threw him out of the family, he's got no right to be skulking about the house getting rid of all Mistress's nice things..."

"It's not her house anymore, it's my cursed house, and I'll toss out whatever rubbish I please," Sirius said sharply.

"And he brings that Potter brat with him, the one that destroyed the Dark Lord," said Kreacher, his eyes burning.  Harry watched the house-elf with a nervous eye.  "How he dares defile the threshold, such gall –"

"You watch what you say about my godson," Sirius growled.

Kreacher shifted his glare back to Sirius.  "Kreacher will never let the family abomination trash Mistress's things.  Kreacher will guard them with his life."

"If I have to kill you to get rid of them, I won't cry," said Sirius.  "Make yourself useful and do some dusting.  And put on a clean towel for heaven's sake!"  He turned to Harry, ignoring the elf who was beginning to mutter again.  "Let's go.  Ah, and this was supposed to be a fast, simple trip..."

"Wow," said Harry as soon as they were out of earshot.  "_That_ was Kreacher?"

"Nasty little wretch, isn't he?" said Sirius.  "Like I said, completely devoted to Mother and more than half gone.  I've given him some clean things to wear but he won't touch anything I offer."

"Can't you do anything to get rid of him?" said Harry.  "He's a Dark sympathizer!  You don't want him hanging around the Order!"

"That's the irony of it," said Sirius.  "We're safe as long as he stays in the house.  I told you he can't leave; if I let him loose he'd go running straight to Narcissa, and killing him would be murder, as much as I'd like to do it.  When I first came back to the house I had assumed he'd been dead for quite a while.  Unfortunately he wasn't, and seeing as I was a convict on the lam, I couldn't chuck Kreacher out when he could go telling.  So here we are, stuck with each other, and neither of us likes it much at all.  My hope is that he'll kick the bucket within the year.  He is horribly old, after all."

They had reached the fireplace.  "Go on," said Sirius, proffering the pot of Floo powder.  "I'll be right behind."  Harry went, feeling all too happy to leave the creepy old house and its lone occupant behind.  _Even fifteen minutes is too long to spend there_, he thought.

Harry noticed two things at the moment he stepped out of the fireplace at Alverbrooke: first, that Professor Thornby was looming large in his mind which meant that she was there somewhere, and second, that there was a small group waiting for him.  The sight of Ron and Hermione was most welcome after the gloom of Grimmauld Place.  They were waiting with Lupin and Dumbledore, and all of them were smiling in his direction.  "Hi!" he said happily, hurrying over to meet them.

"Morning, Harry," said Ron, beaming cheerfully back at him with Hermione.

"Hullo, there seems to be a party going on here," said Sirius, stepping out of the fireplace.

Ron and Hermione were grinning so enthusiastically that Harry knew something was up.  Lupin and Dumbledore were smiling in a much quieter fashion, but Harry knew them both well enough to know that they were just as excited as his school friends.  "What are you all so happy about?" he laughed.

"Well, for starters, my house has been added to the Floo network," said Hermione.

"And we've both been given permission to come and go from here whenever we like," Ron added.

Harry looked back and forth between the two of them.  Clearly that was not the whole story; they were both smiling too excitedly.  Hermione was practically bouncing up and down on her toes.  "And?" Harry prompted eagerly.

"_I_ know what's going on," Sirius said smugly.  "And if I may say so, you've all got rotten poker faces."

"Who needs a poker face on a day like this?" Lupin laughed.

Dumbledore stretched out one hand toward Harry.  Clutched in his gnarled fist was a stack of papers.  Harry's mouth fell open.  "Is that…"

"Your emancipation," the headmaster said kindly.  "Take it."

Harry gingerly took the sheaf while his friends grinned like maniacs.  "It's mostly legalese," said Lupin.  "It's the last page you'll be interested in."

Harry turned over the last sheet of paper.  _I, Vernon Albert Dursley, do hereby relinquish all legal and financial obligations pursuant to the guardianship of Harry James Potter…_  It went on in that way for several lines, and at the end was his uncle's bold signature.  There was a similar paragraph below.  _I, Remus Esmond Lupin, do hereby assume all legal and financial obligations pursuant to the guardianship of Harry James Potter…_  Harry read the rest of Lupin's section more carefully than he had his uncle's.  It ended with the phrase _which I shall fulfill until the advent of my death_, followed by Lupin's neat, even signature.  At the very bottom were the signatures of several magistrates and a large, black-and-gold seal.

"My uncle signed them," Harry said softly, feeling a smile grow on his face.  He could have more easily stopped the earth from turning than stop that smile.

"It is done," Dumbledore affirmed.

Hermione clasped her hands together and beamed at Harry, looking for all the world like a ray of pure sunshine.  "Oh, congratulations, Harry," she said, her voice thick with emotion.  She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

Harry heard Sirius give a loud sniff behind them.  "Any second now I'm going to start blubbering like a baby…"

As soon as Hermione let go of Harry Ron took her place, unabashedly giving his friend a fierce bear hug.  "Congratulations, mate," he said heartily.

Harry started laughing; he couldn't help himself.  He found himself being hugged by his godfather, shaking Dumbledore's hand, and being embraced by Lupin, who gave him one of those sincere, gentle smiles that Harry was coming to love.

Happy congratulations and hugs went round the group several times before Harry, Ron and Hermione began to settle down.  Harry was touched by his friends' joy; a casual observer might have thought that something wonderful had happened to them as well as Harry.

"I have more good news," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling behind his spectacles.  "Last night Fawkes did the most extraordinary thing: he obligingly dropped a feather upon my desk."

"Did he!" said Sirius.

"Galivan Ollivander has most graciously agreed to begin work on Harry's new wand straight away," said Dumbledore.  "He understands as I do that with things as they are, Harry Potter is the last wizard on earth who should be without a weapon."

This _was_ good news.  Harry felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his chest.  It was the core of his wand that had been so important, the phoenix feather from Dumbledore's faithful bird that had made his wand brother to Voldemort's.  Harry had been dreading going back to Ollivander's for a new wand, one that would have been inferior to the first – at least for him.  His wand had chosen him; now he knew that there would be a perfect match waiting.

"Thank you," Harry said earnestly, and even he could hear the relief in his voice.  "Will it be the same as my old wand?  You know, wood, length, all that?"

"I do not know," said Dumbledore.  "Galivan is truly gifted at what he does, but it is not customary for him to make a wand on special order for a particular wizard.  As far as I know he has only ever done it for one other person."

"Who?" said Ron, speaking for everyone else in the room.

"Me," Dumbledore said simply.  "And before you ask, Miss Granger, I will not be relating the tale of why at this time.  There are more important matters to attend to at present."

"Professor Thornby," Hermione said, and everyone suddenly grew much more solemn.

"Indeed," said Dumbledore.  "Can you verify her location, Harry?"

"She's already here," Harry replied, and the headmaster nodded in satisfaction.  "Can I see her?" Harry asked.  Ron and Hermione threw pleading looks in the headmaster's direction that clearly said "Me, too!"

"Certainly," said Dumbledore.  "I could not hope to keep you separated, what with you both living in the same house.  Of course, she doesn't know where she is.  You should prepare yourselves," he cautioned them.  "Her… detachment… will probably sadden you.  She does not seem to know either Remus or myself."

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione, and they looked right back at him with looks of quiet determination on their faces.  Harry knew they were thinking the same thing he was – that it was high time they got going on their research so they could right the situation.  Harry looked back at the adults and nodded.  "We're ready."

They climbed the stairs to the second floor and followed Dumbledore down the hall to an open doorway from which light was spilling.  The adults stopped at the door and motioned for the students to step inside.  Harry moved forward with his friends, suddenly feeling hesitant.  As prepared as he thought he was, he still wasn't looking forward to seeing Professor Thornby in the same state as Neville's parents.

She was sitting in a high-backed armchair.  With her hair hanging loose and her hands upon the chair's armrests, she looked – for a moment – very much like she had while sitting in the chained chair before the Wizengamot.  She was gazing straight ahead with utterly expressionless eyes.  Dumbledore had not left her completely alone; Bellaton was standing at one of the windows, staring out at the summer's day.  The light streaming in washed out his features, but as soon as he heard the group enter he turned to look at them.  His jaw had the same rock-hard set that Harry had seen so often on him of late.  His eyes were hardly softer.

The visitors stood quietly, watching.  Harry glanced at each of his companions in turn.  Ron and Hermione watched their old professor with pity and regret.  Dumbledore and Sirius were somber and Lupin, to Harry's surprise, seemed resigned.

Suddenly Professor Thornby blinked and her eyes narrowed slightly.  She turned her head and stared straight at the newcomers – more specifically, at Harry.  He heard a collective gasp behind him and turned to look at the adults.  Their mouths were all slightly agape.

"That is the first sign of recognition she has given anyone since she was cursed," said Dumbledore.

Professor Thornby raised one hand to her left temple, continuing to stare quizzically at Harry.  The gesture told Harry that she was sensing him in her own head and she didn't understand what was going on.

"Confusion," said Sirius with wonder in his voice.

"Indeed," said Dumbledore, sounding no less awestruck.  "The first sign of any _thought_ whatsoever… she is puzzling over the connection."

"But you said her mind was trapped," said Ron.

"I see that Harry has been filling you in," said Dumbledore.  "Yes, Healer Bigelow believes that she is trapped and that she has almost no chance of recovery, but this is very encouraging.  This is a sign of improvement, an indication that everything that was lost may yet be found and restored.  I wonder if she will begin to interact with Harry in any other way."

Was that an invitation to try something right then?  Harry wasn't sure.  He looked over at Lupin who hadn't said anything yet.  The werewolf was watching Professor Thornby with an almost fearful expression as if he hardly dared to hope that what Dumbledore said was true.  When Lupin felt Harry looking at him he met Harry's gaze.

"Do you want me to… I don't know, try something?" said Harry.

Lupin shook his head dazedly.  "Sure… if you want to," he murmured.

Harry thought about it for a moment and decided that the first thing to do was to simply get closer.  He slowly began walking toward the armchair.  Beyond he could see Bellaton watching Professor Thornby with eagle eyes.

Her reaction was not what Harry had hoped for.  As he drew nearer she pressed herself farther back into the chair and her face took on a look of apprehension.  Harry reached the chair and stood in front of it, looking down at his guardian.  She stared right back, hardly blinking.  Harry dropped into a squat so he wouldn't tower over her, reached forward, and took one of her hands in his own.

He could hear her breathing speed up.  The longer he held onto her hand the faster her pulse went until it was racing to beat horses.  The look in her eyes had gone from uncertainty to outright fear.

"She's afraid of me," said Harry, releasing Professor Thornby's hand.  Disappointed, he turned away to rejoin the group.

The adults, however, were anything but disappointed.  "Fear," said Sirius.

"She understands that it is Harry she feels in her head, but she does not understand why and it frightens her," said Dumbledore.  "_Very_ encouraging."

"But she's _afraid_ of me!" Harry reiterated passionately.

"Give her time," Bellaton rumbled.  Harry jerked his head in the Singer's direction; it was the first time he had spoken since the night before.  Bellaton's eyes were burning as he looked at Harry.  "Eventually she should get used to the sensation and learn to trust you.  Remember that it gets stronger the closer you get."

Harry looked back at Professor Thornby who was still looking at him.  Her face was calmer now, but it was still unsettling to have her stare at him so relentlessly.  Harry made no answer to Bellaton's suggestion.  He understood why _some_ emotion from Professor Thornby was a good thing, but why did it have to be fear?  He couldn't help her if she panicked every time he came near her, and though the adults didn't seem concerned, Harry was unwilling to terrorize her for two months.

Dumbledore pulled his pocketwatch from his robes, glanced at the face, and sighed.  "Oh, dear.  I fear I must be going again.  All this running hither and thither is wearing me out."

"When will you come again?" said Lupin.

"Soon, I hope," said the headmaster.  "Minerva and I have much to do today; it may be a few days before I return."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged significant glances and made as if to leave.  Now more than ever they wanted to get caught up on the project and make some plans, and listening to the adults say farewell was a waste of good time.  Dumbledore, however, forestalled them.

"A moment if you please, Harry," he said, and the students froze in their tracks.  "I would like to speak to you."

Ron and Hermione raised questioning eyebrows but Dumbledore merely folded his hands and kept his gaze on Harry.  Harry met his friends' eyes, shrugged, and followed the headmaster to the far corner of the room.  Everyone else left save for Bellaton who went back to staring out the window.

"This is nothing you cannot tell Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, but I wanted to ask you this privately should you wish to refuse," said Dumbledore quietly.  "Let me encourage you to continue spending time with Celeste.  You are the only person she recognizes, even if she doesn't know your name or what you are about."

"Only because she can feel me in her head," Harry said halfheartedly.

"Exactly!" said Dumbledore.  "And that is a good thing, Harry.  She may fear you now, but I believe Ardoc is right.  Given a little time and patience that should change."

"I'm not going to scare her all summer," Harry said firmly, voicing what he had been thinking.

Dumbledore sighed and dropped his eyes, startling Harry.  He hadn't really noticed before, but now that it had happened he realized that the headmaster always looked you in the eye when he spoke to you.

"I realize that I may be putting a great burden on your shoulders by telling you this," said Dumbledore, "but I feel that I should do it all the same.  Judging by what I have seen, if anyone is going to reach Celeste it will be you.  The two of you are bound together; I hope that she may be able to use that link to find her way back."

Dumbledore looked back up at Harry as he finished.  The slight furrow of his wrinkled brow showed Harry something he had never seen before: Dumbledore was pleading with him.  _If anyone is going to reach Celeste it will be you..._  He _needed_ Harry.

Harry felt pride well up inside him.  This was what he had been desiring for a whole year – something to do.  He dismissed the fact that he, Ron, and Hermione were planning to do it anyway.  Dumbledore was giving him a task, and that made all the difference.

"Okay," he heard himself saying.  "I'll do my best."

Dumbledore smiled.  Harry felt a little guilty when he saw the gratitude in the old man's eyes.  "Thank you," said Dumbledore.  "Believe me when I say that this means the world to the Order and to me.  And to Ardoc," he added, glancing over Harry's shoulder at the figure by the window.

"What's wrong with him?" said Harry.  "I know it must be Professor Thornby, but..."

"He cannot help her.  It is eating him up inside," said Dumbledore.  "They have relied on each other for a long time and are as close as brother and sister now.  Imagine how you would feel if one of your friends was struck down and you could do nothing to aid them."

Harry thought back to second year when Hermione had been petrified, remembering how helpless he had felt, and nodded.

"One last thing," said Dumbledore.  "It is possible that you will be unable to find a way to help Celeste.  Your effort is all I ask for.  I have great faith in you, Harry."

Harry couldn't help the grin that spread across his face.  "Thank you, sir."

Dumbledore smiled and gave him another piercing look.  "Good day, Harry."  And with a swish of his robes he was gone, leaving Harry alone with Bellaton, Professor Thornby, and a heart that threatened to burst from his chest with pride.


	5. Hitting the Books

**A/N: **Author alerts didn't go out for the last chapter, so for those of you who are reading based on when you get them – make sure you go back to Chapter 4. 

Haunting Darkness: Hey, nice to see you again!  You know, a lot of people who said "Start the next story ASAP!" after the end of Guardians haven't shown up at all.  I wonder if somehow people don't know that this story exists.  Maybe I'll send out an email.  :-)

Rob: Super!  I guess I got the job done, then.

Lady Pallas: Is his name really Remus John?  Ick.  Not that I have anything against the name John, it's just that it's so common.  I can't recall any time when his middle name was _specifically _mentioned, just the initial (and obviously I had forgotten about that).  I don't keep up with J.K. Rowling's various hints and explanations outside of the text, so if that's when the world learned Remus' middle name, I didn't hear of it.  I think maybe I'll just leave it at Esmond, but I really appreciate the heads-up.

Chapter 5: Hitting the Books

Not long after Dumbledore departed Harry set off for the library, knowing that was where Ron and Hermione would have gone.  Sure enough, Hermione was up on a ladder, pulling books off the shelves and handing them down to Ron who was already holding quite a stack.

Ron grunted as Hermione placed yet another book on the wavering pile.  "Uh... I think I'd better put these down."

"Just one more," said Hermione.  She stretched out her arm, holding a book, and smiled when Harry reached up and took it.  "Harry!"

"Here – give me some of those," said Harry, taking half of Ron's books.

Ron sighed in relief as the load on his arms lessened.  "Thanks.  Hermione's a harsh taskmistress."

Hermione snorted.  "You've been going on so much about how much muscle you've put on from Quidditch, I wonder at how you can hold so little."

"Guess what Dumbledore wants me to do?" Harry said excitedly, interrupting what was sure to be another argument between his friends.

"Kick Voldemort's butt?" said Ron.

"Besides that!"

"Then I don't know," said Ron.

"He asked me to find a way to help Professor Thornby!" Harry exclaimed.

Hermione and Ron looked at each other.  "We were already going to do that," she said patiently, climbing down from the ladder.

"I know, but now _Dumbledore_ is asking," said Harry.  He and Ron set their books down on a dark, polished table.  "Don't you see?  This is Order work!"

Ron began to smile.  "Yeah... I guess it is!"

"Well, with or without Dumbledore's approval, we have a lot to do," said Hermione.  "I think we're going to be losing some of our help as the summer goes on, too."

"You're right," said Ron.  "Fred and George told me they don't have much time to work on this anymore since they've got the joke shop to start.  They're going to close the deal on the property any day now.  Ginny's still researching, though.  She was pretty mad that she didn't get to come to the Order meeting."

Harry nodded, understanding something of how Ginny had to be feeling.  She was the only Weasley besides Percy who had not been in an Order meeting, and now that Percy had come back to the fold, that was likely to change – for him.

"Well, it's fine if the twins have other work to do," said Hermione.  "No one was bound to this project.  I don't think we're going to get much help from Angelina or Alicia, either.  They've got careers to start."

Harry shrugged.  "We're going to have a better chance than anyone of finding something.  Look at all these books!  I don't think anyone else has access to a library like this, not over the summer."

"Then we'd better get started," said Ron.

"Okay!" Hermione said briskly, rubbing her hands together.  "I think we should use the divide and conquer method.  We can start with the bookshelves on the walls.  I'll take the north wall, Ron can take the south, and Harry can do the east."

"I can't help but notice that I've already helped you get a whole stack of books from the north wall," said Ron.

Hermione smiled sweetly at him.  "And I'm very grateful.  Thank you, Ron."

"Fine," said Ron.  "But you're getting the rest of your books yourself."

Harry and Ron spent the better part of an hour up on the ladders, starting up at the ceiling and working their way down.  There were so many books that they knew they couldn't look through them all, not in one summer.  They didn't want to take the chance of skipping any useful information, though, so they read the table of contents of any title that looked even remotely relevant.  When Harry and Ron had each collected a sizable stack of books, they sat down at the table with Hermione and began leafing through them.

Hermione picked up her quill.  "Oh, no," she said.  "I've just realized – we can't use the copying charm!"

Harry and Ron gaped at each other.  "You're right," said Ron.  "No magic outside of school."

"This is going to make everything take a lot longer," Harry sighed.

"There you are!" said Sirius, walking into the library.  "I've been looking all over for you, but this is the last place I thought…"  He trailed off as he came up to stand beside them.  His eyes took in the stacks of books.  "What's going on?  You're not starting your homework already, are you?"

"Actually, we don't have much homework at all this summer," said Hermione.  "The professors decided to give us a break after the O.W.L.s."

Sirius frowned.  He reached down and picked up a book on top of Ron's stack.  "_The History of the Dark Arts,_" he said aloud.  He raised an eyebrow and picked up another.  "_The Unforgivable Curses._  What on earth –"

"We're looking for a cure for Professor Thornby," Harry said quickly.

Sirius' head jerked up.  "You're… what?"

"Dumbledore says I might be the only person who can help her," said Harry, "but I can't do this alone, and we need a place to start."

"You wouldn't happen to have any ideas, would you?" said Ron.

Sirius looked thunderstruck.  "You're serious about this."  It wasn't a question.

"Yes," Hermione said simply.

"We started back at school a few weeks ago, actually," said Harry.  "Just after…"

Sirius nodded.  He ran a hand through his hair.  "I… don't know what to say.  I don't know what to say."  He gave a short laugh.  "You three are simply astounding."

"You don't think it would be possible for us to get special permission to use a certain charm outside of school, would it?" Hermione suddenly said.  "It's a copying charm that makes all this go much faster."  She held out a book for Sirius to see.

"You copied all this?" he said in amazement as he paged through.

"With the help of that charm," she replied.

"I'll ask Dumbledore," Sirius said dazedly.  "Maybe he can… I'll ask Dumbledore."  And without another word he turned and left the library.

"Guess he wasn't expecting this," said Ron.

"Guess not," said Harry with a smile.

**********

Sirius was as good as his word.  By the end of that first day Dumbledore had secured permission for Harry, Ron, and Hermione to use a few simple charms to make their task easier.  Once his surprise wore off Sirius expressed interest in the project and offered to help whenever he could.  "I don't know when that'll be, though," he admitted.  "I'm rather busy with Order matters just now."  Harry and his friends tried everything they could to get Sirius to tell them what he was working on, but he wouldn't budge.  All he would say was that Dumbledore was letting him go out in disguise now that the 'national manhunt' for him had been forgotten.  The effort, renewed last year, seemed to have died with Fudge.

Lupin, of course, was even more interested in the research than Sirius, but he had enough on his plate already.  The werewolf seemed touched beyond words by what Harry and his friends were doing and left the library nearly in tears after his first visit.  "He's got it bad," Ron observed after Lupin had gone, but he wasn't trying to make fun.

Harry would have liked to have known what Bellaton thought of the project, but almost from day one he was seldom to be found.  "He's volunteered for missions that involve no small amount of traveling," said Sirius when Harry asked about it.  "I think it's probably better that way.  Sitting around here watching his best friend languish would have driven him mad.  The man's a soldier; he needs something to do to keep his mind off of things."  Harry thought it looked like abandonment and said as much.  "You're wrong about that," said Sirius.  "He and Remus had a talk.  Remus is more than happy to do work that will allow him to remain here, believe me."

And so a routine soon developed which looked to last for the rest of the summer.  Ron and Hermione came to Alverbrooke nearly every day to work, sometimes staying late into the evening.  Hermione brought the day's correspondence which they read through before diving back into the books.  She was the most organized of everyone and the project had been her idea in the first place, so she was the de facto leader and it had been decided that all letters on the subject should be sent to her.

By the time they had been out of school for a week all of their friends had sent at least one letter.  Most of them were of the "Hi, how are you?" sort but it was plain that everyone was still keeping up with the task, even those who had graduated.  It seemed that no one had found anything of great value yet.  Lavender was the first to write, and her letter was indicative of what all the rest were to be like.  "I've not found anything particularly useful yet, but I've been copying down everything even remotely interesting and will keep looking."

Harry began spending time with Professor Thornby just as he'd promised.  Lupin informed him that she was not to be left alone; according to Healer Bigelow, patients in a similar state at St. Mungo's would frequently walk around.  The problem was that they didn't know where they were going and could potentially get into trouble.  Lupin didn't quite trust the house-elves yet and Bellaton was seldom around, so that left himself, Harry, and Sirius to look after her.

After only a few days of having Professor Thornby in the house, Harry thought he understood what Dumbledore had meant when he'd said she would be a burden.  Though he wished he didn't feel the way he did, Harry found her presence depressing.  She was completely dependent on the people taking care of her, and knowing that she was unaware of her loss of dignity was small comfort.  Everything that had made her who she was was locked away inside of her.  All that was left was her appearance and even that was somewhat changed.  Harry thought she was too thin, for one thing; she would drink when you put a glass in her hand and eat when given a sandwich, but she never finished anything.  Harry couldn't help thinking that it was probably easier for Neville to see his parents in this state than it was for him to see Professor Thornby, because Neville had never known his parents to be any other way.  Every day Harry saw exactly what had been lost.

Professor Thornby weighed on the entire household like a gloomy cloud that wouldn't go away.  Even the house-elves, usually so cheerful and content, were affected by it.  But somehow this was not the only influence she had on the people who helped her keep on living one day at a time – she inspired them as well.  Instead of sinking into despair, Harry found himself spurred onward in his quest to find a cure.  Yes, Professor Thornby was pitiful, saddening, and utterly changed from the person he had once known, but there was a chance that this could be rectified.  Harry was determined not to give up on her until she was dead; that was when she would be beyond anyone's reach.

Fortunately, things began to improve little by little as the days went by.  Every morning Harry spent at least two hours in Professor Thornby's company before Ron and Hermione showed up.  It seemed that Bellaton had been right - the more often she saw Harry, the more accustomed to him she became.  It only took two days for her to cease to be afraid of him; after that physical contact never bothered her.  A few more days and she stopped staring at Harry whenever he was in view.  Harry was especially grateful for this development.  Her blue-eyed, unrelenting gaze made him uncomfortable, especially since they were windows to vacancy where once there had been life.

Lupin, who was holding up surprisingly well, was forever looking for ways to get Professor Thornby to take notice of the world.  One day he left the house and returned with a small gray kitten.  "From Emmeline Vance," he explained.  "Her resident mouser just had some unexpected arrivals."  The kitten had white feet and a white spot on its chest that looked exactly like a beard.  As a result there was some discussion of calling it 'Santa', but in the end they settled on 'Kit'.  It was hard to tell when Professor Thornby was reacting to anything at all, but Sirius swore he saw a change when they put the little cat into her lap.

They took Professor Thornby on walks around the house, hoping that familiar places might do some good.  Lupin was the most assiduous in this task, especially after he brought her to the music room and thought it garnered some recognition on her part.  According to him she lingered over the piano and the harp, both of which she could play – or had been able to play, that is.

One morning Harry hit upon the idea of reading aloud in her presence.  He had no idea if it would make any difference whatsoever, but thought it might be worth a try.  At first he read from one of the books he was looking through but decided that the subject matter was too dull.  Hermione urged him to try a piece of fiction.  "Facts and figures will only put Professor Thornby to sleep," she said.  "Try one of the giants of literature – you know, Shakespeare, Dickens…"

"Dickens will put her to sleep, too," Ron put in, and Hermione chucked an inkpot at his head.

Harry knew a little about Shakespeare, so Shakespeare it was.  He started out with _Romeo and Juliet_ because he already knew the basic plot.  The story was entertaining enough, but he soon found that it was hard for one person to read a play aloud.  He had to keep saying whose lines he was reading and it interrupted the flow.  With such difficulties to be had it wasn't long before Harry found himself doing voices.  He never would have dared if anyone other than Professor Thornby were present; he could only imagine how Ron would tease him if he heard Harry reading some of the romantic banter between the star-crossed lovers.  He had taken to squeaking out all of Juliet's lines in the girliest voice he could manage.  Perhaps it was a little over the top, but Professor Thornby seemed to find it funny.  Harry was almost sure that he saw a ghost of a smile on her lips more than once.

Unfortunately for Harry, he began having too much fun to save himself from embarrassment.  One day when he was not watching the clock, Ron and Hermione stood in the doorway unnoticed while Harry was right in the middle of a confrontation between Juliet and her father.  He was sitting on the floor cross-legged, the open book supported by his knees.  He made his voice as deep as possible for Capulet.

"'Out, you green-sickness carrion!  Out, you baggage!  You tallow-face!'"  And then for Juliet he squeaked, "'Fie, fie!  What, are you mad?'"

A sudden snort from the doorway brought his head sharply up from the page.  Ron and Hermione were standing there, choking with the effort of holding back their mirth.  As soon as they saw Harry watching they abandoned the effort and laughed aloud.

Harry turned bright red.  He slammed the book shut, drew his knees up to his chest and buried his face in his hands.  "Oh, Merlin," he groaned.

"Do it again, Harry," said Ron, who was having trouble getting the words out, he was laughing so hard.  "Do the... squeaky thing again..."  He dissolved into laughter again.

Tears were streaming from Hermione's eyes.  "And it's... supposed... to be a tragedy!" she hiccupped.

"Shut up," Harry said sourly.  His friends only laughed harder, and Ron actually pounded his fist on the doorframe with glee.  As humiliating as it all was, Harry had to admit that it probably had been very funny – to his friends.  The upswing was that Ron and Hermione decided to help read, with Hermione taking over all the female lines.  Harry flat-out refused to keep reading Juliet if his friends were going to be in the room.  He had a terrible feeling that Ron and Hermione would never, ever let him forget that day.

Such moments of levity were rare during that time.  Harry was getting used to Professor Thornby in her present condition, but the research could have been going better.  Weeks passed as he, Ron and Hermione worked through book after book, read letters from their friends, and filled blank books with passages.  There were a few false starts but no solid leads.  For a while Hermione studied passages on Cruciatus, thinking that maybe she could find a way to reverse its effects, but to no avail.  "That kind of magic is far beyond any of us," she said, "and even if it weren't, how could I practice?  I'd probably wind up killing the subject while trying to get it right."

No one was giving up though the task seemed more and more daunting as the one-month mark approached.  The summer was nearly half over and Harry felt no closer to the goal than he had been before.  He couldn't give up hope that someone, somewhere, sometime had puzzled over the same problem and found a solution.  It was just that there were so many books in the world, and it was looking more and more as if the information he sought was going to be in an arcane volume if it existed at all.  His other school friends seemed to be getting discouraged as time wore on and they ran out of ideas or books to look through.  Hermione was bringing fewer and fewer letters every day, and even she finally admitted that looking blindly through books for something – anything – could take a lifetime.

And finally, one morning, everything changed.

Ron and Hermione came to Alverbrooke as usual, Hermione bearing one letter only, which was from Seamus.  They settled into their routine with Ron and Hermione going through books while Harry took the letter and opened it.  He was fully expecting the same old thing – no news – but Seamus' letter had a different tone.  Harry's eyes widened as he read.

_Dear Hermione, Harry, Ron,_

_Have something interesting to report this time – finally!  My mum and dad gave me a book on famous witches and wizards for my birthday last week.  I wasn't too excited about it (I have to read enough books at school), but I took a look at it anyway and it turned out to be fascinating.  Near the end there's a chapter on witches and wizards that are supposed to have done big things, but most of the records on them have been lost so no one can really confirm them.  Here's the part you'll be interested in: legend has it that Estella the Wise saved dozens of people from insanity!  There's really nothing in the passage that says how, though.  I copied the page – take a look and see for yourselves._

_I don't know if this'll be any help at all.  I know Dumbledore said Professor Thornby isn't insane, really, but I think it sounds like it's pretty much the same thing.  If there's nothing else written about old Estella then we'll never know how she did it anyway, but this is the first I've read of anyone being able to do something about insanity.  If she really was famous and did what she did then there ought to be something more that's written down.  Maybe Hermione can dig up some more.  If she can't, no one can._

_Cheers,_

_Seamus_

By the time he finished reading Harry's jaw was hanging open.  He swallowed and tried to say his friends' names but nothing much came out.  "Ah… ah…"

Neither Ron nor Hermione had looked at him yet.  "Cat got your tongue?" Ron said pleasantly, still concentrating on the book in front of him.  When Harry didn't answer he looked up.  The smile vanished from his face.  "What is it?"

Harry found his voice at last.  "Got something…"  He held out the letter.  

Ron and Hermione scrambled up out of their seats, seized the parchment, and bent over it to read.  For a heartbeat they both looked as flabbergasted as Harry had, and then Ron haltingly began to laugh.  Hermione followed suit, and in moments all three of them were laughing and hugging.  Hermione was nearly crying.

"Finally!" Ron crowed.  "God bless Seamus!"

"I didn't know it was his birthday last week," Hermione giggled.  "We owe him something really nice now!"

"We knew," said Harry.  "We sent him a box of Honeydukes' chocolates."

"We ought to buy him the whole store," she said breathlessly.

"So?" Harry said eagerly.  "What do you think?"

"Let's look for her," Ron said excitedly.

"Yes," said Hermione.  "Maybe there's something here!"

They pulled every book on famous witches and wizards that they could find from the shelves.  During her searches through other books Hermione had found a spell that you could cast on a book to make it find a certain word.  "_Expiscio Estella_!" they commanded on each book, but only one turned up anything.  It was only a passing reference to her and it didn't mention insanity or Cruciatus; instead, it mostly focused on her leadership qualities.

"Well, we don't care about brokering peace treaties between warring tribes of centaurs," said Ron, closing the book.

"I'm going to write to Madam Pince," Hermione announced.  "Maybe she can find something in the Hogwarts library."

It was a tense wait for a response from the librarian.  Harry, Ron, and Hermione decided they all needed a break from the constant reading and spent the time trying to have fun; they wouldn't have been able to concentrate anyway.  Harry and Ron played Quidditch with Sirius, Lupin, and Bellaton, who was back at Alverbrooke for a few days.  They practiced falconry with Orpheus, the bird that Harry and Hermione had given to Ron last Christmas.  They played Wizard Chess, Exploding Snap, and any other game they could get their hands on.  Of all three of them, only Hermione could stand to read a book.

Finally, after three days, Madam Pince replied.  Hermione showed up at Alverbrooke that morning practically bursting with anticipation.  "I _really _wanted to open the package but thought I should wait," she said breathlessly.

"Well, there's no need to wait now, go on and open it!" said Ron.

Hermione excitedly tore into the package which contained one book and a note.  "It says that this is the only book she could find that had any information other than what we already knew," said Hermione.  "Oh, she's ever so polite…"

"Madam Pince has always liked _you_," said Ron.  "Harry and I… we're another story.  A little too rambunctious, I guess."

"Well, she also says that if I damage the book in any way, Gryffindor will be starting out the year in negative numbers," said Hermione.  "I didn't tell her I was with you but I suppose she suspects."

Harry opened the book.  "_Expiscio Estella_!"  The pages flipped over all by themselves and came to rest near the middle of the volume.  Harry ran his finger down the page until _Estella the Wise_ caught his eye.  "Most of it's the same," he said as he peered at the passage, "but here… it says she wrote a memoir!"

"Oh!" exclaimed Hermione.

"Er, it's been lost," said Harry.

"Blast!" said Ron.

"Hold on, why don't you wait to react until I've read the whole thing?" said Harry.  "It says that a scribe named Nicodemus is supposed to have copied sections of it down, and that the last known location of his works was the Great Library."

"So what are we waiting for?" said Ron.  "Let's go!"

"We can't just up and go to Greece!" said Hermione.

Harry smirked.  "I seem to recall the two of you having this exact same conversation a few weeks ago, only your roles were reversed then."

"What I _mean_ is that we've got to find an adult to go with us," said Hermione.  "We're targets now.  We can't go alone."

"Well, of _course_ we'll find someone to go with us," said Ron.  "When did I ever say we wouldn't?  I'm just saying that we should find one right now and get going."

Hermione opened her mouth and Harry cut her off before she could say another word.  "Good – we're all agreed," he said quickly.  "Let's get somebody."

The first person they found after leaving the library was Bellaton.  The big Singer seemed to be in a better mood after jetting about the Continent, and Harry and his friends reported their news to him with glee.  His response, however, was not encouraging.

"The Great Library?  I think that's out of the question."

Harry, Ron and Hermione stared at him openmouthed.  "Why?" Harry managed.

"Because it's not the place it once was.  It's dangerous now, and the three of you are too important to send into danger.  And even if I were willing to let you go, we have no Order members to spare.  We have evidence that Voldemort is planning to attack another target and soon."

"But Sirius and Remus could come with us, couldn't they?" Hermione pleaded.  "Remus is always around here and I know he trusts the house-elves more than he used to, so they could watch –"

"I would still say no," Bellaton said regretfully, "but then I'm not really in charge of any of you.  You could go to Remus and ask, Harry, or you could try Dumbledore, but I think they'll probably give the same answer.  Perhaps after this attack has been thwarted –"

"But it's _important_!" Ron exclaimed.

Bellaton's face fell.  "I know," he said quietly.  "Believe me, I know.  And I am happy that you may have found something, but I wish you didn't need to go to the Great Library to get it.  Please excuse me; I need to get going."  And he turned and walked down the hall before any of the students could say another word.

Harry felt as if he had just dropped off a cliff.  His friends' dejected faces showed that they felt the same way.  None of them had thought that Bellaton would stomp on the idea; he surely wanted Professor Thornby back as badly as they did.

"What's so dangerous about a library?" said Ron.  "I mean, maybe if it were full of Hagrid's _Monster Book of Monsters_…"

"I don't know," said Hermione.  "Wasn't Dumbledore supposed to have talked to Professor Binns?  Maybe he'd know what's going on."

Harry set his jaw.  Staying at Alverbrooke because of some nebulous threat in Greece was _not_ going to fly.  "I don't care _what's_ going on at the Great Library," said Harry, "but one way or another we have to get that book.  Come on – it's time to get a second opinion."


	6. The Great Library

**A/N:** She's baaaaack. Holy cow – it's been almost a month since I last updated. There are several reasons for this, including writer's block, vacation, and an extreme workload at work (the last thing I wanted to do upon coming home was sit down in front of a computer). Anyway, what was surely one of my busiest months for this year is almost over, and I have high hopes of being able to update more often in the future. This chapter is VERY long and I hope it will help make up for my long absence.

Lady Pallas: Oh, well. J.K. Rowling has such a talent for unique (and appropriate) names. I guess they don't all have to be unusual.

athenakitty: Heh. Ron might throw an unstoppered ink bottle at someone, but I think Hermione's was probably closed.

Sherry: Nice to see you! Sorry I haven't been updating – hope this chapter is up to snuff.

CAN'T THINK OF A GOOD NAME: It's been a month, so maybe you've had time to come up with something by now. :-) I'm so sorry it's been so long! This kind of a delay is really unusual for me, just so you know. But when you've got too much to do at work and then the words don't come when you _do_ have time to write… there's nothing you can do.

Prongs4: Mmm… popcorn. I could use some of that right now. Maybe this is an occasion for making some!

PhoenixTearsp322: You are right – chapter 5 was pretty up and down. That's one of the very things that got to me about Order of the Phoenix. Harry would be really happy at the beginning of the day, then something would happen, and WHAM – he's down in the dumps. Next day, same thing. Adolescence or no, it's kind of draining. But I guess you all are probably pretty tired of hearing me complain about Book 5 by now… Oh, and you can tell me you think I'm a great writer all you want! Thanks!

soquester (Rob): Congrats! Now you can have all your favorite stories listed online and all that, though I have heard that sometimes stories vanish. Another reader has said that she downloads them to her computer so she won't lose them. Ah, how could I kill you for not reviewing when I haven't updated for an age? Great to hear from you, as always.

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Chapter 6: The Great Library

Harry, Ron and Hermione hurried through the house in search of Lupin. Harry was feeling anxious to find him before Bellaton did, just in case the Singer decided to give Lupin warning of what they were planning. He didn't really think that Bellaton would do something like that, but he hadn't been himself lately.

"What are we going to do if Remus says no?" said Hermione, saying what they were all thinking.

"One way or another I'm going," said Harry, "so let's just hope he says yes and it'll save everyone a lot of trouble." Hermione just sighed and shook her head.

They found Sirius and Lupin with Professor Thornby in the music room. The two men were reading from a scroll of parchment, now and then making a note upon it. A small pile of more scrolls sat at their feet. Professor Thornby was even quieter than they were, sitting still in a chair next to the harp. True to form, she looked straight at Harry as he entered and then looked away again.

"Hello," said Sirius, looking up as they entered. He raised an eyebrow when he saw Harry's face. "Something wrong?"

"We want to go to the Great Library," said Harry, looking at Lupin. "I think I should tell you that I'm planning to go with or without your permission, so you might have to tie me up if you say no."

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed.

Harry grimaced. He hadn't meant to be quite so blunt; it had just popped out. He vaguely thought that it was a rather telling slip of the tongue. Harry had quite a bit of respect for Lupin who had just effectively adopted him. _I guess I think he deserves better than to have me sneak out of the house,_ thought Harry.

Lupin rolled up the scroll and set it aside. "Why do you need to go to the Great Library?" he said calmly.

"Because we think we're on to something," said Ron.

Sirius' eyebrows climbed higher. "With your research?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"Tell us," said Lupin, motioning them to sit.

They sat and explained about how Seamus had discovered Estella the Wise. "It might turn out to be nothing," Hermione admitted. "No one knows where a copy of her memoir is and we don't know what parts of it Nicodemus decided to copy down. If he wasn't interested in healing the insane…"

Lupin nodded in understanding, but his eyes were bright with excitement. "This is the first real lead you've come across, is that correct?"

"Right," said Harry.

"Well, Ardoc was right about the Library, I think," said Sirius. "About the fact that it's dangerous, I mean."

"He didn't exactly explain _how_ it's dangerous," Harry said peevishly.

"That's because he doesn't know the answer," said Sirius. "No one really knows. Almost twenty years ago patrons began vanishing from the building, never to be heard from again. The Ministry sent a squad of Aurors to investigate when people began to complain that their friends and family had gone missing. None of the Aurors returned and ever since then few have dared venture there."

"But people have gone," Hermione pressed him.

"They have, and have come back safe and sound," said Sirius. "For all anyone knows the Library may be perfectly safe now – the cause of the disappearances may be long gone – but until someone solves the original mystery, it can't be assumed that things are back to normal."

"No one has any idea at all of what happened?" said Harry. It seemed hard to believe that the Ministry would let twenty years go by without finding out what had happened to the Aurors.

Sirius shook his head. "No one who has visited since the disappearance of the Aurors has seen any sign of foul play. Who knows what happened? It could have been an attack by a Dark creature, a stealing of souls, an attack by aliens from outer space – anything."

Harry's heart was sinking. The more he heard, the more he was certain that the adults would never let him go to the Great Library whatever his defiant attitude. He was constantly being protected, so there was no reason in the world for them to send him after a book in a place that might or might not be infested with Dark creatures.

Lupin hadn't said anything while Sirius explained about the possible threat within the Library. He had spent the time frowning slightly, eyes focused on something just to the right of the students, though Harry didn't think he was really seeing it. Now he inhaled slowly through his nose and met Harry's eyes, holding them for a few long moments before speaking.

"Well," said Lupin, "since you seem so set on going, Harry, I suppose I'll have to go with you."

Harry blinked. Had he heard correctly?

"Of course I can't give the two of you permission," said Lupin, looking at Ron and Hermione. "You'll have to go to your own parents."

"You're going to let me go?" Harry said incredulously.

Lupin nodded. "Not alone, as I said, but you'll be sixteen in one week and as much as I'd like to, I can't keep you behind glass forever. If you think this book is worth the risk, we'll go get it."

"When?" Harry said eagerly.

"You should tell Dumbledore first," said Sirius. "I don't know what he's going to say."

Lupin shrugged. "I will listen to his advice, but in the end the choice is ours. Of course if he would be willing to spare an Order member or two, that would be helpful."

"Sounds like the two of you had better get a move on if you don't want to be left behind," said Sirius, grinning roguishly at Harry's friends.

Ron and Hermione jumped up from their chairs. "Right. See you later, Harry," said Ron just before they dashed out of the room.

Sirius and Lupin stood up. "Will you stay with Celeste?" said Lupin. "I'm assuming you'd like to go as soon as possible, so we should find Dumbledore."

"Sure," said Harry.

"We shouldn't be too long," said Sirius, and with that, the two men left on Ron and Hermione's heels.

The music room was very quiet without Ron, Hermione, Sirius and Lupin. Too late Harry realized that he had nothing to do – no books, no one to talk to. Professor Thornby sat very still in her chair, paying Harry no mind whatsoever.

Harry had nothing else to do but look around the music room. He had only ever spent time in it when he had been listening to Bellaton and Professor Thornby practice. One of the walls was completely covered by a bookshelf holding bound volumes which were taller and wider than normal books. Harry pulled one off the shelf and opened it. _Jacob Ludwig Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy: A Midsummer Night's Dream_, read the title. Harry turned the page and found lines and lines of music, not a note of which he could read. The Dursleys had had little interest in music, especially the orchestral kind, which Vernon had thought a great bore. Dudley had never learned to play anything (the Dursleys thought lessons cost too much) and Harry certainly hadn't been given the chance. Harry felt vaguely regretful as he looked at the music; he had rather liked the trip to hear the symphony last summer.

As Harry replaced the score on the shelf, the shiny black piano across the room caught his eye. There were two boxes sitting on it. One was tall and shaped a bit like a pyramid, and the other was long and colorfully lacquered. Harry recognized the second box. He'd seen others like it in Hogsmeade at Dervish and Banges. Harry opened the lid and found that he'd been right – the soft strains of a symphony drifted out, not in little tinkling notes, but as if there were a tiny orchestra inside the box.

_Ping__!_ Harry's head quickly swiveled around to look at Professor Thornby, who had one hand on the strings of the harp, fingers arched. _Ping__! __Ping__!_ Two more plucks followed, and Harry realized that they were in perfect harmony with the music coming from the music box, both in pitch and rhythm.

Of course! Why hadn't anyone thought of it before? Music had been a huge part of Professor Thornby's life. A piece of music well-known to her was probably just like an old friend, and she obviously knew this one.

Harry stood and watched in amazement as the music box played and Professor Thornby occasionally played along. It was just a note here and there, but they were perfectly placed. Harry had gotten so used to Professor Thornby sitting around doing nothing that it was almost unsettling to see her taking initiative. As he listened, a sneaking suspicion came upon Harry. What if it wasn't just the music that elicited such a response, but his proximity as well? It had been obvious for weeks now that Professor Thornby was far more aware of the world when he was around. In all that time he'd never seen her do anything like this – other than absently stroke Kit, the gray kitten, who was getting bigger every day.

Harry couldn't go to the Great Library. That much was suddenly and abundantly clear. If it turned out that whatever had destroyed the Aurors was still there, Harry and anyone who went with him might never make it back. That would mean that Professor Thornby would most likely be stuck like this for the rest of her life, rendering the sacrifice completely meaningless. _I suppose that's the down side of being the only person who can do something,_ thought Harry, feeling slightly deflated. Lupin had just said that he was old enough to make his own decisions. Harry still wanted to go – he wanted to _do_ something after a month of looking through books – but it no longer seemed like the right thing to do.

The symphony in the box was ending; Harry recognized the sound of an approaching conclusion. Professor Thornby plucked one last string as the last chord sounded, and the box fell silent. She moved her hand back to the spine of the harp, face blank, looking for all the world as if nothing had happened.

"I've opened that box every time I've brought her to this room," said Lupin's voice from the doorway. Harry looked up and saw him standing there with Sirius. Both of them were staring at Harry and his guardian in complete surprise. "She's never done that before."

That settled it. Harry had been right; he knew it now. It wasn't just the box – it was him. "I'm not going," he said aloud.

Both men slowly nodded their understanding. "I'd say that's a very mature decision, Harry," said Sirius. "Quite selfless, seeing as you must be accustomed to going on adventures by now."

"I wouldn't call many of them adventures," Harry said tartly, still feeling disappointed about the trip in spite of himself. "More like brushes with death."

"If you're certain, Harry, then I'll be staying too," said Lupin.

"What about Ron and Hermione?" asked Harry.

As if their names had been a summons, his two friends appeared in the doorway. The glum look on Ron's face was enough to tell Harry what Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's answer had been. Hermione, on the other hand, was obviously ecstatic. She seemed to be trying to contain her excitement for Ron's sake but was having little success.

"Dad was willing to think about it, but Mum put her foot down," Ron said morosely. "When she digs in it's near impossible to get round her."

"Well, my parents gave me the green light," said Hermione. "I'm _so_ surprised, I thought they'd say no once they heard what happened to those Aurors all those years ago –"

"Green light?" said Ron in confusion.

"Oh – a Muggle expression," said Hermione.

"Well, you're going to have to go without either of us," said Harry.

"I'm… what?" said Hermione, her face falling. "But Remus gave you permission!"

"I'm not going," said Harry. "My own choice." He looked pointedly at Professor Thornby.

"Oh," said Hermione. She sounded disappointed.

"You won't be alone, at any rate," Sirius said kindly. "We couldn't possibly send you without a proper guard."

"Dumbledore has agreed to the plan and will even go so far as to send Order members," said Lupin. "He sees the value in discovering how to 'cure' insanity, not just for Celeste but for others as well. He is going to Tonks with the mission and is certain she will accept. Ardoc will be going –"

"He was against it," Harry interrupted. "He said the Library was too dangerous and the Order was too busy to help."

"Yes," Sirius said dryly. "He's been a real 'the glass is half empty' kind of person lately."

"He's going," Lupin repeated. "When Dumbledore asks, Ardoc will not refuse."

Harry wasn't entirely satisfied with this answer. It wasn't that he thought that Professor Bellaton wouldn't be as assiduous in his task of guarding Hermione as he should be; it was the fact that even a direct order from Dumbledore wouldn't change Bellaton's outlook on the mission. He would still think it an unnecessary risk, and Harry didn't like his pessimism. This was Bellaton's _friend_ they were trying to help. No matter what excuses Lupin and Sirius made for him, Harry couldn't help but feel that Bellaton was giving up. Sometimes he didn't seem to be the same man Harry had gotten to know one year ago.

"And Fred and George will be going as well," Lupin added.

"_Fred _and_ George_?" Hermione said dubiously. Apparently this wasn't something she had heard yet.

"It's their big chance to prove to the Order that they're responsible and worthy of joining," Ron said bitterly. "Mum didn't want them to go either but she couldn't stop them, not now that they're of age and out of school."

"There will be no pranking during this trip, Hermione," said Sirius. He gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Any horseplay will only show the twins to be _irresponsible_ and that's not what they want."

"He's right," said Ron. "If there's one thing they'll be serious about, it's the Order."

"Well… okay," said Hermione, not sounding entirely convinced.

"Dumbledore thinks that any more people might be too risky," said Sirius. "It could be that whatever disposed of the Aurors twenty years ago was attracted by their numbers."

"So when are you going?" Harry asked Hermione.

"Right now," she said, her cheeks pinking up a bit.

"So soon?" said Harry in surprise. "Doesn't Dumbledore want to talk to Professor Binns first? What about sending one or two people in advance?" He had never expected it to happen _that_ fast; it had only been an hour since they first broached the subject. Now that it was only Hermione who was going of the three of them, he found himself feeling reluctant to let her go. He, Ron, and Hermione always watched each others' backs. Really, who _did_ know what was lying in wait at the Great Library? No one, that's who. It was starting to seem just as likely that it _hadn't _left as maybe it _had_.

"Tonks and George are going first," said Ron. "They're going to have a look around and if everything seems okay they'll come back here. They're probably at the Library already."

"And as far as old Caractacus Binns is concerned, we don't know what he's doing," said Sirius. "Dumbledore says he's stopped replying to his letters."

"Maybe whatever's in the Library got him, too," said Harry.

Sirius barked a laugh. "Not likely. There's not much that can destroy a ghost, Harry. Dumbledore thinks he's probably just not interested enough to be bothered. He's probably holed up in some dusty corner with stacks of books on goblin rebellions, and being a ghost, he never has to get up and leave."

"It's not likely we'll ever see him again," said Lupin.

"But wasn't he sent off to the Library to find something for Dumbledore in the first place?" said Ron.

"Well, yes, partly," Lupin said neutrally. "Of course the other motive was to get a teaching position open for Celeste to fill."

"Did he find what he was looking for?" said Harry. "Because if he hasn't, maybe you should locate him and –"

"He found it," said Sirius, cutting Harry off. "Dumbledore seems content to leave Binns alone for now."

"What _was_ he was looking for?" Hermione said curiously, voicing the question that Harry and Ron were both thinking.

Sirius and Lupin didn't look at each other, but the way they both squared their shoulders at the same time told Harry that they were in agreement and weren't going to say. "That's really not something you need to worry about just now," said Sirius.

"But –" Ron began.

"It's Order business," said Lupin, and Harry and his friends shut their mouths. It was no use wasting their breath; Sirius and Lupin were not going to tell them, and there would be other battles to fight later when they wanted information. Harry was sure of that.

"Well," Ron said grumpily, "I agree with Harry. This seems awfully quick to me." He was eyeing Hermione with no small amount of apprehension.

Sirius gave Ron a shrewd look. "If you'd been allowed to go, you'd be wanting to leave this very moment." Ron's mouth thinned, but he didn't deny it.

"There is a reason for haste," said Lupin. "Ardoc was right about something else – the Order has reason to believe that Voldemort will be making an attack soon."

"And that's why we're going now – before it happens," said Hermione.

"But you could go _after_ it happens," Ron said stubbornly. "Really, there's no great rush except that we all want this done with as soon as possible."

"There might not be anyone left after the next attack," Sirius said grimly.

The group grew quiet. "We are striking while the iron is hot," Lupin said softly. "If our greatest fears come to pass – the Order is eradicated in the next battle – then who knows when anyone will get to the Great Library? Everyone currently suffering the aftereffects of Cruciatus will remain that way indefinitely."

"If Voldemort wins the next time he strikes, I don't think anyone's going to be thinking about how to reverse insanity," said Ron.

"And there's no guarantee that we'll ever be able to do it, with or without the book," said Hermione.

"Well, things are quiet at the moment, so this is the time to go," said Sirius.

Harry didn't say anything. There were an awful lot of possibles, maybes, and chances mixed up in this business. No one was certain of anything, and it was an unsettling feeling.

Lupin glanced down at his watch. "We ought to get downstairs," he said. "Ardoc and Fred will be here soon."

Sure enough, Bellaton and Fred were standing in the breakfast room by the time they got downstairs. Fred was bouncing up and down on his toes. "Hullo!" he said brightly to Harry and Hermione. "You two ready to go?" Ron scowled at him.

"I'm not going," said Harry.

"Did Remus change his mind?" said Bellaton.

"No," said Harry. "I did." He gave them his reasons, and for the first time in what seemed like ages, Bellaton smiled.

"I won't deny that I'm glad to hear that," he said. "I'm sure you're tired of hearing about it but you're very important, Harry. There's no sense sending you into a situation with so many unknowns."

"Why's there any sense in sending Hermione, then?" Harry said defensively. "She's just as important as I am." Hermione blushed.

Bellaton snorted. "There isn't," he said. "I say just let the adults go. We're picking up a book; we don't need Hermione to do that."

At this, Harry frowned. It was hard to tell whether Bellaton disapproved of the mission itself, the people going on it, or the idea that an answer to their troubles could be found in a book. By this time Harry was feeling more than a little bit irritated with the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, but he shut his mouth and turned away. _Maybe it's _him_ who shouldn't be going,_ he thought.

Two loud cracks sounded and Tonks and George appeared. "Wotcher, Harry!" Tonks said brightly. Her hair was bright pink and spiky today. "Well, things look quiet over there, so I'm giving us the all-clear. Ready to get moving?"

"Er – I'm not going," said Harry.

"What –?" Tonks began, but Sirius waved his hand.

"Don't worry about it just yet," he said. "It's late afternoon already – you should leave. I doubt you want to be at the Great Library in the dark, not if you don't know what's waiting for you."

"I suppose you've both passed your Apparition tests, then," Ron said glumly to his brothers.

"With flying colors," Fred said with a wink. "Bellaton says we can't Apparate inside the Great Library, but we can get within twenty feet of the front door. It's safer than portkeys or Floo; this way we can get out in a hurry if we have to."

George was standing still, looking slightly dazed. "You should see this place," he said, sounding almost reverent. "It's _incredible_."

"Oh, shut up," Ron groaned. "It's bad enough that Mum and Dad won't let me go, and you're making it worse."

"Got everything you need, Hermione?" said Lupin.

"Yes," Hermione said brightly, picking up a shoulder bag and swinging it over her shoulder.

Now that the moment of parting had come, Ron seemed even more anxious about Hermione than Harry did. "Be careful," he said fervently, stepping forward to give her an awkward hug.

She smiled back at him. "I will be. You know that."

"Yeah," Ron said uncomfortably. "It's just that... well, I can't be there to... you know."

Hermione's smile widened. "To protect me?"

Ron nodded, blushing furiously.

Hermione laughed lightly and leaned forward to give Ron another quick hug. "You really are sweet sometimes," she said, and Ron blushed even redder.

"George, you take Hermione," said Tonks.

George laid a hand on Hermione's arm.

"See you soon," Harry said quietly from where he stood with Ron.

"Stay on your toes," said Sirius.

"She's in good hands," Bellaton said, sounding more like his old self, and Harry suddenly felt a little better. "Don't worry about a thing. We'll be back as soon as possible." And with a series of loud cracks, the party vanished.

For a moment those left standing in the breakfast room stood still, not knowing what to say. It was Lupin who broke the silence. "Well," he said, "I suppose there's nothing left to do now but wait."

Everyone took chairs. Sirius and Lupin pulled out their scroll and started reading again. Ron absently stared off into space. Harry resorted to simply looking out the window.

_Tap. Tap. Tap._ Ron's wand was beating a steady rhythm against his palm. _Tap. Tap. Tap._ A minute or two went by and Harry realized that Ron was speeding up. _Tap-tap-tap._ For some reason Sirius and Lupin seemed to find this amusing; both had looked up and were watching him. Lupin was smiling faintly while Sirius wore a broad grin. _Taptaptap__ – _

"Knock it off, Ron!" Harry exclaimed. Ron froze, looking surprised. "Why don't we play chess or something? It'll help to pass the time."

"Yeah. All right," said Ron.

They retrieved a chess set from a nearby room. Harry took white, Ron took black, and off they went.

Harry successfully took one of Ron's bishops just five moves in. A few moves later and he had taken a knight, the second bishop, a rook and assorted pawns. Harry knew that Ron was a much better player than this; while he never exactly flattened Harry anymore, he still almost always won. It was a measure of how distracted he was that Harry had taken so many of his pieces.

"I think you're going down on this one, Ron," said Harry as he positioned a bishop, ready to move in on the white queen.

"Hmm?" Ron said absently.

"Prepare to surrender!" said the bishop, waving a staff threateningly at Ron's queen.

A series of loud cracks suddenly rent the air. Harry and Ron jumped, Sirius and Lupin looked up, and the whole party appeared in the breakfast room. They staggered, breathing hard, and Harry suddenly realized that they had been running just a moment before. Fred, George, and Hermione looked thoroughly frightened though the twins were trying to hide it. Hermione had one hand pressed to her heart. Tonks' robes were stained with red at the left shoulder.

Everyone jumped to their feet in alarm. The party had barely been gone for twenty minutes. "What happened?" Lupin said quickly. "Tonks?"

"Harpies," Fred managed while everyone else was catching their breath.

"What?" Sirius exclaimed.

Harry's heart gave a jolt. There _had_ been something lurking in the Library!

"One... got me... in the shoulder," Tonks panted. "They were trying to... carry us off." She craned her neck to look down at her injury and winced.

"You're okay, Hermione?" Ron said anxiously, hurrying to her side.

"Oh, fine, don't think of your brothers at all," said George, whose chest was still heaving.

"I'm – I'm all right," Hermione said shakily.

"Sit down, both of you," Lupin said to the twins, taking Fred's arm and leading him to a seat. The twins obeyed and sat, and Harry took it as a sign of just how shaken up they must be.

Lupin clapped his hands once, there was a loud crack, and a house-elf appeared in their midst. "What can Pip do for you, sirs?" he said with a low bow.

"We need two pots of _strong_ tea," said Lupin, putting extra emphasis on the word 'strong' and giving the house-elf a significant look.

"Right away, Master Remus!" squeaked Pip, and with another crack, he disappeared.

"Better have someone look at that shoulder," Sirius said with concern, pulling up a chair for Tonks and helping her to sit.

"At least we found what we were looking for," Bellaton said. He seemed the most composed of the five.

Harry looked up at the big man. In all the fuss he hadn't thought once about the book, the very reason for the trip in the first place. "You got it?" he asked hopefully.

Hermione smiled halfway and gave her bag a shake. "Three, actually," she sighed. "We never got a chance to look through them."

"It's a good thing we found them before the attack," said Bellaton. "I think that now we know what probably happened to the Aurors. There'll be no going back to the Great Library until the harpies are cleaned out."

Tonks was critically examining her wound with Sirius' assistance. "I'll be all right for a while," she said halfheartedly, attempting to wave Sirius off. Harry wondered why she looked so unhappy.

"Nonsense," said Sirius. "We need Healer Bigelow."

"And Dumbledore, too," said Lupin. "He'll want to know about this right away." Tonks sighed, now looking utterly miserable, and Lupin gave her a critical glance. "If someone else will get him, I'll go to St. Mungo's for Bigelow."

"I'll do it," said Bellaton. "There's no sense in your risking a trip through the Floo network just yet, Sirius, even if it's only your head."

Sirius nodded curtly. Harry thought back to the _Daily Prophet _article of more than a month ago that had talked of his godfather's exoneration. Harry desperately wanted it to come to pass for Sirius' sake, but he had no idea of how good the chances were. It was hard not to get his hopes up.

"Right," said Lupin. "We're off, then. You three" – he looked at Fred, George, and Hermione in turn – "have a cup of that tea when it arrives. You too, Tonks." He and Bellaton each vanished into green flames in quick succession.

Ron was still at Hermione's side. She was now sitting down, still looking shell-shocked from whatever she'd seen. "Hermione –" Ron began.

"Not yet," she said, and Ron immediately shut his mouth.

"Tea's here," Sirius said quietly. Harry looked up and saw a tray with two teapots and an array of cups sitting on the breakfast table. Sirius quickly poured four cups and handed one each to Fred, George, Hermione, and Tonks. The twins both took big gulps of their tea, looking a bit more settled. Hermione sipped hers slowly, but Tonks just stared sadly down into her cup until Sirius intervened. "Drink it down or I swear I'll call you Nymphadora until the end of your days," he said gently. Tonks grimaced and took a sip.

Silence fell over the group. Harry was getting over the initial shock and was now burning with curiosity, wanting to know exactly what had happened at the Great Library and what was in the books – three! – that Hermione had brought back. Judging by the frustrated look on Ron's face he was experiencing similar feelings, but neither of them said anything. Hermione, Fred, and George were all staring forward at nothing in particular, faces blank, and Harry knew they were thinking about whatever it was that had happened.

Green flames leapt up in the fireplace. Dumbledore stepped out followed closely by Bellaton, Healer Bigelow, and Lupin. Bigelow marched straight over to Tonks. "Attacked by a harpy," he muttered. "Better that than other things, I suppose. At least you won't turn into one. Here – let me see."

"It's really not that bad," said Tonks, shying away.

"Don't be silly," said Bigelow. "Harpies have talons like razors." He gently pulled the torn fabric from Tonks' shoulder. Her jaw was firmly set, but she hissed when Bigelow carefully examined the wound.

Bigelow shook his head. "You _have _got fortitude! Not to worry – some bandages and a few potions, and you'll be right as rain in two days." Instead of looking happy at this pronouncement, Tonks only looked more discouraged.

Dumbledore was quietly surveying the group. For the first time Harry noticed that the headmaster was holding a shallow stone basin. Harry knew it was carved about the edges with runes and symbols. He'd seen it before in Dumbledore's office, even been inside it.

"I suppose you'd like us to tell you what happened, then," said George, looking up at Dumbledore.

"Well, yes," said Dumbledore, "though not in the manner of which you are thinking. Certainly you all need a rest after what has happened. I hear that you found what you were looking for, Miss Granger?"

"Yes," Hermione said soberly.

"Then the mission was a success," said Dumbledore. "Well done, all of you." Fred and George brightened a bit, and Hermione smiled, but Bellaton retained a poker face and Tonks did not even look up. Dumbledore gave both adults a critical glance. "I was wondering," he continued, "if the five of you would be willing to put your memories of this event into my pensieve. Five points of view will paint a very clear picture for me of exactly what happened."

Fred and George looked at each other. "That doesn't mean that we'll lose the memories, does it?" said Fred.

"No," said Dumbledore.

"Then it's fine by us," said George.

"It's okay with me, too," said Hermione.

Dumbledore looked at Bellaton who inclined his head in acceptance. Then he turned his eyes on Tonks, who set her jaw and nodded.

"Excellent," said Dumbledore. He walked over to the long table and set the pensieve down upon it. "Gather round, all of you, if you please." They all stood and moved to join Dumbledore at the table. Bellaton and Tonks immediately put their wand tips against their temples and drew them away. Several wisps of gray smoke clung to the tips. Together they stuck their wands into the pensieve, swirled them about, and drew them out again.

Dumbledore explained to Hermione and the twins how to put their memories into the basin. "Think back to when you first arrived at the Great Library. Fix the scene firmly in your mind, then touch your wands to your heads and draw them away." They did as he asked, and when they removed their wands from their heads smoke was sticking to them. They stuck their wands into the pensive, stirred the contents, and pulled them out again.

"Gather round," said Dumbledore, motioning to Sirius and Lupin. "And you two," he said, beckoning to Harry and Ron. "The five of us will view the memory together."

Harry looked at the others' faces as they gazed down into the ethereal mist that gently rolled through the basin. Dumbledore and Lupin were solemn, Sirius looked ready for a fight, and Ron seemed both nervous and excited at the same time. Harry didn't think his friend looked as if he had ever used a pensieve before.

"When I count three, everyone touch the surface together," said Dumbledore. The surface of the thoughts in the pensieve had suddenly become glassy and clear. Harry only had time for a brief impression of a huge stone room. On his left, he heard Ron take a deep breath.

"One… two… three."

Harry stretched out one index finger and dipped it into the thoughts within the basin. He felt the same sensation of pitching forward that he'd felt the last time he'd used a pensieve. Cold blackness rushed by, but a heartbeat later it was gone and Harry found himself standing in an entirely unfamiliar place.

The room he was in was as vast as he had ever seen, larger by far than the Grand Ballroom where the Ministry Gala had taken place. The vaulted ceiling was impossibly high up, supported by shadowy arches and fragile-looking columns. Harry was reminded of the spidery walkways that had crisscrossed the rotunda at the Ministry of Magic; they had not looked as if they could support the weight of a child, but witches and wizards had traversed them without mishap.

Stained glass windows were set in the walls down the length of the massive room, each at least ten stories tall. They seemed to be depicting events of some sort, but there was too much to see for Harry to dwell on them long. Bookshelves as high as the ceiling stood between each window, dappled by the colors of the light streaming in. More bookshelves stood in rows in the center of the room, even taller than those along the walls. Chandeliers covered in cloudy glass hung from the ceiling to give light but the whole room was a bit dim as if perpetually wreathed in twilight. In the distance Harry thought he saw a silvery shape float up to the top of one of the shelves. It was easily the most impressive thing he had ever seen, both in size and man-made elegance. It was like a cathedral of knowledge.

"Bugger," Ron breathed. "I've never seen anything…" Harry tore his eyes from the scenery and saw his friend and the other three men gazing at the sight before them in awe. Even Dumbledore seemed affected, and he had surely been here before.

"Look," said Harry, gently elbowing Ron in the side. He pointed to show Hermione, Bellaton, Tonks, Fred and George standing off to the left, all gazing around with expressions of wonder. They looked as real to Harry as Ron did, but he knew that they could neither hear nor see him. This was the past.

"Bugger," said Fred, echoing Ron as though he really had heard his brother speak. "I didn't know things like this could be built."

Bellaton gave himself a shake. "It is beautiful," he said. "Shame no one can come here to see it anymore."

"Maybe after today they'll be able to," Hermione said hopefully, not taking her eyes off the expanse.

Tonks gave Hermione a gentle smile. "We're not here to solve the mystery of what happened to the Aurors," she said.

"God willing, we'll find no evidence of either them or their destroyers," said Bellaton. "That is a task for another day."

"Don't get your hopes up, old boy," Sirius said darkly.

Dumbledore gave his companions a shrewd look. "Remember that nothing you see here is real," he said. "It is only a memory. Come – they're moving." The other group had indeed started walking forward. Their watchers hurried to follow.

"How do you know where to start looking, Hermione?" said George, staring at the towering bookshelves as they passed. "There must be hundreds of thousands of books here."

"There has to be a head librarian," she said absently. "That's what we should find first." She was looking at the bookshelves with a rapturous expression, and Harry had to smile. This was surely a treat of the sweetest kind for her – or at least it had been until she'd met up with the harpies.

The two groups walked slowly down the length of the room, all of them – living and memory – drinking in the sights along the way. Here and there they saw a silvery ghost hovering dozens of feet in the air before a particular shelf, perusing the books or reading one in their hands.

It was a quiet stroll. No one from either group said a word as they progressed. Once Harry thought he saw a knot of people in the space between two shelves. They weren't silvery so they couldn't be ghosts, but they ducked out of sight moments after Harry spotted them. There were very few patrons, living or dead; the Library was very quiet. The footsteps of Hermione and her guard seemed loud in the silence. Harry's own feet made no sound at all. As astonishing as the sights around him were, there was a sense of uneasiness in his stomach.

About halfway down the room they finally came to an enormous dark wooden desk. Stacks of books were piled atop it – so high, in fact, that if anyone were standing behind them they would not be visible unless they were at least as tall as Bellaton.

"May I help you?"

Harry jumped. A ghost had popped out from behind the stacks of books and was gazing at them curiously. It looked like everyone's worst idea of a librarian rolled into one. It was a woman with a long, pinched face, lips as wrinkled as a raisin, and eyebrows drawn down in suspicion. Her silvery hair was pulled back in a bun so tight that her head looked just like an egg. Her dusty offer of aid sounded like an accusation.

Hermione's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment. "I – we – we're looking for something."

"Indeed," said the librarian, pursing her lips into a shape very like a sneer.

"Works by Nicodemus," Bellaton said smoothly. "His writings on Estella the Wise in particular."

The librarian's ethereal eyebrows climbed upwards. "Nicodemus? Well, now. No one has sought out _his_ work in quite a long time."

"And any works by Estella herself, if you have them," Bellaton added.

The librarian narrowed her eyes. "We _may_ have a volume in the Arcanum that was penned by her," she said, "but the books in that room are in a delicate condition and not well organized. Searching for it will take some time; you should have sent your request ahead of time." Her tone plainly said that she thought them quite stupid for not having done so.

"Well, we haven't got time to wait for that," said Tonks. "Just Nicodemus, then, if you please."

The ghostly woman gave them all a very unpleasant look and bent down toward the desk, vanishing behind the stacked books. A heavy thud sounded a moment later, and Harry suspected that she had opened a very large tome.

"Case sixty-one, shelf seventy-five," said the librarian, reappearing from behind the books. "That way. You will find that the cases are all plainly marked." She pointed in the right direction.

"Thank you," said Bellaton, and the group turned to go, seeming eager to get away from the ghost.

"You're welcome," she said dryly. "And keep your voices down!"

Harry, Ron, Sirius, Lupin, and Dumbledore followed the memories of Hermione's group as they walked down the middle of the room, looking at the bookshelves on either side for number sixty-one. "What a piece of work!" Fred muttered. "You'd think she'd be happy to see some real people. I'll wager she doesn't get many."

"Some ghosts are friendlier to the living than others," said Tonks.

"I wonder how she died," George mused.

"Who knows?" said Fred. "Let's just find that book and get out of here. This place gives me the creeps."

"It's really too bad," said Hermione. "Such a beautiful building, and so many books no one ever gets to read. I could spend a lifetime in here…"

"Whisper, please," Bellaton said softly. "We don't want to attract any attention. Fred is right. Let's find the book."

"I suppose the harpies got her, then," said Sirius in a hushed voice.

"We may or may not discover that," Dumbledore said. "And there's no need to whisper, Sirius. No one can hear you but us."

"It just feels wrong to speak normally here," said Sirius, looking around in apprehension.

It wasn't long before Hermione and her companions found what they were looking for. "Case sixty-one," said Tonks, reading the number from a brass plaque on the side.

"Ah, wicked!" said George, looking down at the floor. A number of brightly-colored carpets were lying at the foot of the case. "I've never been on one of these before!" He sat down cross-legged on one of the carpets and it immediately floated off the ground and hovered there.

Bellaton, Fred, and Tonks each quickly seated themselves on their own carpets. Hermione, however, just stood where she was, watching the enchanted objects with a wary eye.

"What are you waiting for?" Tonks said brightly. "Hop on!"

"I generally prefer keeping both my feet on the ground," said Hermione. "Flying doesn't seem to agree with me much."

"You mean flying on a _broomstick_ doesn't agree with you," said Fred. "I've heard these things handle like bricks compared to broomsticks. You couldn't play Quidditch on them, believe me."

"You're just going to have to do it or we're going to leave you down here," said Bellaton. "We need to hurry. I don't like this place any more than Fred does."

Harry and Ron grinned at each other in spite of their growing feelings of trepidation. If there was one thing Hermione didn't want it was to be left behind when rare books were involved. She sighed in resignation, sat down on the carpet, and shivered when it rose up to hover a foot off the ground.

The group began to float upwards. "Now what?" said Ron. "Can we use the carpets too?"

"This is a memory," said Dumbledore. "We have no control over our surroundings. All we can do is follow." He, Sirius, and Lupin suddenly floated up off the ground, trailing the carpets.

Ron's mouth fell open. "You mean you just think about where you want to go and you go there?"

"That is not entirely accurate, but for now it is close enough," said Dumbledore. "Come."

Harry shrugged. "Here goes nothing." He looked up at the rising carpets and thought of staying alongside Hermione, and suddenly he was drifting up through the air. One glance to his side showed that Ron was doing the same thing with a look of wonder on his face.

Up they went, counting shelves along the way. Every fifth shelf was numbered with a plaque, and the seventy-fifth turned out to be only about halfway up the massive bookcase. When the carpets stopped the watchers did too. Harry looked down and saw nothing beneath his feet but clear air and the floor several stories below. The sight made his heart skip a beat, and he quickly looked away again when his stomach gave a queasy lurch.

Hermione and her four companions were already scanning the shelves. Hermione was decidedly skittish on her carpet, now and then casting stealthy glances over her shoulder at the ground. Harry thought she was beginning to turn green.

"Here!" George said excitedly.

Hermione's face lit up. She floated to George's side and pulled more than one leatherbound book from the shelf, handling them as reverently as if she held the world's greatest treasure. "Three by Nicodemus," she said.

"Why should three be any surprise?" said Tonks.

"I don't know," said Hermione. "I guess I was only expecting one. We know that copies of his work are quite rare."

"Well, which one do you need?" said Fred.

"I don't know that either," said Hermione. "We'll have to look through them. When we find what we're looking for I'll copy it down."

Bellaton sighed. "All right. Pass one over."

Hermione stretched out one hand to give him a book but paused in the act when something caught her eye. "What's this?" she said, picking up a long, dark feather from the shelf. Harry blinked; he hadn't noticed it though it had been lying right under his nose. It had blended in with the deep brown wood of the shelf. Hermione turned the feather this way and that in the dim light. It seemed to be of a very dark blue, so deep it was almost black. Harry felt goosebumps pebble his skin though there was no breeze that chilled him. He knew what it was – all the watchers did. The attack was going to happen very soon now.

Tonks inhaled sharply. "Let me see that," she whispered urgently. Hermione handed her the feather and the Auror examined it closely. "Yes," she said. "The green shaft, barbed tip… this is from a harpy."

"Look – there are more," George whispered. He had floated up a bit on his carpet to look at the shelves above. "Up here."

"Come back down," Bellaton said very softly, but the note of sudden urgency in his voice was plain to everyone. George quietly returned to the group. "Tonks?" said Bellaton.

Tonks nodded. Slowly, silently, she drifted up on her carpet until her head was just below the top of the bookshelf. Dumbledore followed, drifting up beside her and peering critically down at the top of the shelf. Very carefully Tonks craned her neck to peek over the edge, and she very quickly dropped back down again. "Eggshells," she hissed. "They've been breeding here."

"Oh, Merlin," Hermione breathed.

"Time to go," Fred whispered urgently. "Just take the books, Hermione!"

"There are broken shells on top of every bookcase," Dumbledore said gravely. "This is a most serious infestation."

Harry's heart was beating faster and faster. The sense of foreboding that had been growing inside him was very strong now, leaving him almost nauseous with dread. Hermione was in trouble and he could do nothing to help her. It didn't seem to matter that he knew it was only a memory, that everyone would be all right in the end.

Hermione was breathing quickly as she pulled the three books from the shelf and stuffed them into her bag. Harry and Ron looked at each other, and Harry saw that Ron's eyes were wide and bright. The carpets began to descend rapidly toward the floor and the watchers followed suit.

The carpets landed and everyone scrambled to their feet. Everyone except Tonks, that is, who stumbled on the tangled carpets underfoot and fell against bookcase sixty-one.

Everyone sucked in a short breath. Tonks gripped the shelves, half-slumped against them, looking upward with fearful eyes. For a moment everyone stood stock-still. Massive as it was, the bookcase didn't seem to have even felt the impact of the petite Auror. But a moment later a soft, scritch-scratch rocking sound filtered through the quiet.

Bellaton breathed a curse.

One huge egg, blue speckled with black, rolled off the top of the bookcase and plummeted to the floor. Fred, George, and Bellaton all pulled out their wands and opened their mouths but they were too late. The egg smashed into the flagstones and yellow yolk splattered everywhere.

There was one moment of quiet in which Harry heard Tonks let out a shuddering breath. Then, high above them, an ear-splitting shriek suddenly tore the air. Everyone looked up, wide-eyed, and saw what looked like a woman with long, wild hair and black wings plummet from the ceiling to the top of the bookcase. She was too far away to make out perfectly but Harry could see her open her mouth when she screamed again.

"Run!" Tonks shouted.

Hermione, Fred, and George wheeled and began a frantic dash back the way they had come, followed closely by Tonks and Bellaton. Everyone save Hermione had drawn their wand and she was fumbling for hers. Harry and the rest of his companions began running to keep up with the shades of their friends. Dumbledore simply glided forward over the floor, his feet not touching the ground. In a brief flash of thought, Harry supposed that the headmaster wasn't up for a sprint.

The harpies' prey were looking over their shoulders as they ran. Harry looked back and saw feathery bodies dropping from the shadowed arches that supported the ceiling. They unfurled their wings as they fell, catching on the air and swooping forward with piercing cries. Harry could see that they had the heads of women but their similarity to humans stopped there. They had no arms, only wings, and their torsos were covered in sleek feathers. Their feet were large, cruel claws that glinted in the failing light.

The first harpy had reached the group. She screamed horribly and dropped toward them like a hawk falling on a mouse. Her talons snatched and Tonks yelped but everyone kept running.

"_Stupefy_!" shouted Bellaton, pointing his wand at the creature that had just slashed Tonks. A jet of red light burst from the tip and struck it squarely in the chest. Without a sound the harpy plummeted to the floor behind them where it lay unmoving.

They were halfway to the exit when the ghostly librarian suddenly appeared. "Stop!" she shrieked, floating away from the desk and giving pursuit. "You've got books, I know it! You can't take them with you! It's not allowed!"

The fleeing people ignored the librarian who was soon left far behind. Dozens of harpies were amassed behind them now, all rushing headlong toward them, their screams making Harry's head ache. More were dropping from the ceiling at every moment. Their wings blocked out the light from the stained glass windows and the chandeliers. Fred, George, Bellaton, and Tonks were firing Stunning spells in every direction, felling harpies and their snapping talons, but the creatures were traveling much faster than they and their task was becoming more and more difficult.

Hermione looked behind her and screamed at the sight of two enormous clawed feet stretching forward to seize her off the ground.

"_STUPEFY_!" George bellowed, and the harpy tumbled out of the air only to be replaced by another. Hermione's head whipped back to face forward again. Judging by the look on her face, she didn't think they'd make it out.

But the door was very close now. Hope dawned on the runners' faces as it drew nearer and nearer.

"Someone take Hermione as soon as we're past the wards!" Tonks shouted. "_IMMOBULUS_! Whoever's closest to her!"

"_ALOHOMORA_!" Bellaton commanded, waving his wand at the heavy wooden doors. They swung inward so hard and fast that they struck the walls with a deafening crash. Bellaton and the others streaked out into the fading daylight. Moments later harpies were rocketing out after them, still screaming their rage.

Tonks stunned one last creature before they passed the invisible barrier that prevented Apparition.

"NOW!" Bellaton shouted.

Fred seized Hermione's arm and the two of them vanished with a crack. A split second later three more cracks sounded as George, Tonks, and Bellaton Disapparated, and everything went black. The memory was over. Harry felt his body rising up and up through the darkness; then he seemed to flip head over heels and he felt his feet hit the floor. Harry blinked in the sudden late afternoon light streaming in through the window at Alverbrooke.

"Blimey," Ron said shakily.

"I'll second that," said Sirius in dark tones. Harry didn't say anything, still reeling from the sudden change in surroundings. One moment they had been surrounded by shrieking creatures and the next he was back here.

Ron swallowed hard and walked over to his twin brothers. Abruptly he stuck out his hand. "Thank you," he said. "That was bloody brave of you."

Fred and George's faces broke out into smiles – not the cocky, pranksters' smiles they so often wore, but rather ones of simple pride. "Anytime," said Fred, exchanging a knowing glance with his brother.

Dumbledore had left the pensieve and moved to stand beside Tonks. She was staring silently down into her lap while Healer Bigelow applied bandages to her injured shoulder. She tensed visibly as Dumbledore approached. "Nymphadora," he said gently. "Nymphadora, look at me."

Tonks slowly raised her head. Her eyes shone with tears. Harry's heart went out to her; now he understood why she had been looking so disconsolate. "I –" she began.

"There is no need –" said Dumbledore.

"I failed," she said miserably. "I jeopardized both the mission and everyone involved. I'm too much of a klutz to be an Auror. Maybe you should just give me document duty –"

"I will do nothing of the kind," said Dumbledore, putting a hand on her good shoulder. "You are a fine Auror, Nymphadora, and the Order _needs _you. We only have three Aurors as it is. No one is better equipped to fight Voldemort's Death Eaters than you. You did what you were sent to do – recover the book and protect Hermione Granger."

She shook her head. "If I hadn't tripped over my own two feet and fallen on that bookcase, the egg wouldn't have broken and the harpies would have left us alone. I put us all in danger that we didn't need to be in."

"You did not fall over your feet," said Dumbledore. "You fell on a very lumpy carpet; anyone else would have done the same. Accidents happen, and there is nothing we can do to prevent that. Perhaps I should regale you with the tale of how, when I was a young man, I quite accidentally leveled the school greenhouses and killed most of the plants inside. I thought Master Terreston would have my head. He nearly did."

Tonks smiled a little bit in spite of herself.

Dumbledore turned to Hermione. "Hermione, would you give me the books, please?"

Hermione looked uncertainly at Harry and Ron. "Aren't you going to let us look through them?" she said in a small voice.

"Of course," said the headmaster. "But not until tomorrow. You have been through enough today and I would prefer it if you rested until the morning. And knowing you three, the only way I can be sure that you will do so is by taking these with me."

"But Harry and I haven't been through anything!" Ron objected. "Why can't we look at them?"

Harry gave his friend an incredulous look. Maybe they hadn't been in mortal danger just then, but it was ridiculous to imply that it hadn't had any effect on them whatsoever.

"Where you two are, there Hermione also will be," said Dumbledore. "Rest assured that I will have the books back here before first light. And now, with that being said, I need to speak with Ardoc, Nymphadora, and the two elder Weasleys here."

Fred and George grinned at each other. "Guess we'll see you three later," said Fred as they made their way to the fireplace with the others. "Good luck with those books. Let us know if you find anything!"

"We will," said Hermione. "And thank you. All of you."

The twins beamed at her. Tonks and Bellaton turned and smiled her way, both of them looking a little less somber than they had a moment ago.

"Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place!" said Dumbledore, throwing a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace. Green fire leapt up. Moments later, they were gone.__


	7. A Lead and a Letter

**A/N: **Voila!  To everyone who thought I'd abandoned this story in favor of my new one, A World That Shouldn't Be, behold: an update!  What can I say?  When the creative juices are flowing, they're flowing, and when they're not, they're not.  Lately the new story has demanded quite a bit of attention.  I'm very proud of it, by the way.  Check it out.

I'm not the weakest link: Thanks – but from the looks of things I won't be hearing from you again.  ;-)

krysalys73: The Final Battle?  That's going to have to wait for seventh year…  :-)

athenakitty: Your reviews are sometimes hard to respond to but I love to get them.  ;-)

Still cant think of a name: You're welcome!  Believe me, I'm not trying to make the gaps between updates so long… it's just the way it's working out.

Bohemiat: Interesting comment about Ron and Hermione.  Eventually Ron is going to have to find the guts to bring up the subject of the possibility of a date with her.

Prongs4: Mmm, I like caramel popcorn.  I'll definitely make sure Tonks gets some.

Talix: Nice to see you again!  I'll keep my eyes peeled for your return.

TheDragonReborn: I like the Wheel of Time, too, although we need a little less conversation and a lot more action right now (in the words of Elvis).  I'm really glad you're enjoying the story.  I wish _I _thought I sounded like a real Harry Potter book.  I will keep on striving for that.

Chapter 7: A Lead and a Letter

Harry had set no alarm, but he still woke before dawn.  The sky was a soft lavender color with a pinkish tint near the horizon.  Harry dressed hastily and hurried downstairs where, just as Dumbledore had promised, Nicodemus' books were waiting on the breakfast table.

Harry picked up the book on top of the stack and turned it over in his hands, drinking in the smell of old leather and parchment.  It was an aroma that Hermione adored, and Harry had to admit that there was something nice about it.  He very much wanted to open the book and start reading, but the thought of his two friends stopped him.  They were as excited about the books as he was and wouldn't want to be left out.  He was going to have to wait.

Harry had only just sat down when a green fire sprang up in the fireplace.  He looked up, expecting to see Hermione, and was astounded when Ron stepped out.

"Morning," Ron said brightly, walking across the room toward Harry.  He stopped suddenly and looked around.  "Where's Hermione?"

"Not here yet," said Harry.

"You're kidding," said Ron in disbelief.

"Nope," said Harry.

"And I thought _I_ was going to be the late one," said Ron.  His eyes took in the three books upon the table.  "Have you looked at them yet?"

Harry shook his head.  "I wanted to, though."

"I suppose we ought to wait for her," said Ron.

"Yeah," said Harry.  "It's funny – I thought she'd be here even before Dumbledore, and he said first light."

"Well, she'd better get up soon," said Ron, taking a seat.  "She ought to know better than to expect _my _patience to hold out."

For a few moments there was silence in the room.  Harry's thoughts had taken a darker turn and he wasn't sure he wanted to air them out.  He hesitated and then decided it wouldn't do any harm.  They had the books; whatever was in them was what was in them.  "Have you ever thought it odd that no one seems to remember that Estella the Wise could supposedly heal the insane?" he asked.

Ron gave Harry an unusually shrewd look.  "You're worried that we won't find anything in these," he said, looking at the volumes on the table.

"Well, yes," Harry admitted.  "Think about it.  Estella is the onlylead we've managed to find and these books are the only ones that mention this ability of hers – supposedly.  I mean, why wouldn't more people know about such an amazing discovery?  Maybe it was all a fraud and this Nicodemus was a nut for believing it."

Ron rested his cheek on his hand.  "Hermione says that facts about people have a way of getting distorted with time.  Estella did live a really long time ago, and books that old are rare."

"Seamus' information came out of a modern book," said Harry.  "If facts do get distorted, then maybe Estella couldn't heal the insane at all.  Maybe she could just… I don't know, make them a little _less_ insane or something."

Ron shrugged.  "There's nothing to be done if you're right," he said.  "But if Nicodemus _does_ mention how she did it, then we've hit the mother lode.  He copied from _her_ memoir, so it's as close to actually speaking with Estella as we can get."

Harry nodded, feeling a little bit better.  His heart felt like it was sitting on a seesaw.  His fingers itched to open the book.  Thinking of finding what they were so desperately seeking made his heart rise.  But then when he imagined _not_ finding what they sought, it dropped into his shoes.  _PLEASE be there,_ he thought.  _We're running out of ideas._

Ron shifted irritably in his chair.  "I go to all that trouble to get up early and Hermione doesn't even show," he said.  "If she doesn't get here in ten minutes, I say let's go ahead.  I can't stand this waiting, not when the books are right in front of us!"

The fireplace suddenly filled with green flames and Hermione staggered out.  With her tousled hair and sleepy eyes she looked as if she'd just rolled out of bed.

"About time!" said Ron, standing up.  "What happened?  You're always up before I am."

Hermione yawned copiously.  "Sorry.  I had a really hard time getting up this morning.  Mum had to shake me a couple of times."

"Well, you're here now, so let's get going," Harry said eagerly, seizing the books off the table.  "The library?"

No one objected, and they headed up the staircase to the second floor.

"I had a dream last night," Hermione said suddenly as they walked down the hallway.

Harry and Ron looked at her.  "An ordinary dream or a special one?" said Harry.

"It wasn't ordinary," said Hermione.  "That much I'm sure of."

"What do you mean, that much?" said Ron.

"I don't remember it very well," Hermione sighed. 

Harry frowned.  "How could you not remember it?  The other ones all had you waking up in the middle of the night convinced that they'd actually happened!"

"I slept _really_ soundly last night," said Hermione.  "Soundly enough that I didn't wake up, anyway.  I had a lot of other dreams, too – regular ones – and by the time Mum shook me awake the first one had gotten all mixed up with the rest.  I couldn't really sort it out, and now they're all fading away."

"It was probably because of the harpies," said Ron.  "If I'd been there in the flesh, I'd have been worn out, too."

"That's what I thought at first," said Hermione, "but now I don't think that's it.  I mean, I've gone to bed tired before.  It never felt quite like this."

"I don't understand.  How bad is this, exactly?" said Harry.

"I don't know," Hermione said anxiously.  "The last time my understanding the dream meant life or death for our parents."  She threw Ron a desperate look.  "I don't think it was _quite_ so urgent this time, but all my dreams have been important so far, haven't they?  I don't want to miss anything.  We need every advantage we can get!"

"What are you going to do?" said Ron.

"I owled Miss Flavisham first thing," she said.  "I told her everything I could remember and asked her to let Dumbledore know if she saw anything important in it.  I don't know what else I can do."

"Maybe you'll have it again tonight," Ron said hopefully.

Hermione threw him a dubious look.  "That's not very likely," she said.  "And besides, none of these dreams have been any fun.  I wouldn't want to repeat any of them."

They had reached the library.  "What _do_ you remember?" said Harry, pulling up a chair and setting the books down on a table.

Hermione sat down.  "A village," she said slowly.  "A sense of danger, but the people there couldn't feel it."

"Which village?" said Ron.

Hermione shook her head.  "Believe me, if I knew I'd have told you already."

"Bellaton kept talking about how Voldemort is planning an attack," said Harry.  "Was that it, do you think?"

"I'm afraid it might have been just that," she said mournfully.  "Oh, I feel terrible.  What if I knew the name of the town in the dream?  What if I knew the date?  What if I could have –"

"Kept people from dying?" Ron said gently.

Hermione nodded.

"It's not your fault that you needed to sleep," said Harry.  "You can't help when the dreams decide to come."

"Well," said Hermione, "I guess there's nothing I can do but hope Miss Flavisham can sort it out."

"That's the spirit," Ron said cheerfully.  "And what luck – we have just the thing to help you get your mind off of things."  He picked up a book and raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Hermione smiled in spite of herself.  "Okay.  Why don't we each take one and start looking?"

After two hours of reading Harry suspected that his book wouldn't be the one to mention Estella.  Nicodemus was going on about his desire to meet Galileo Galilei and his difficulty to do so as the astronomer had recently been accused of heresy.  Before that he had described (and drawn) a couple of plants, talked about the mountains, and generally bored Harry to tears.

"I wish he'd shut up about the eating habits of Romanian wizards," Ron muttered from behind his own book, and Harry grinned.

"I've got it!" Hermione crowed.  She pointed a finger at her page and ran it along as she read aloud.  "'In the course of my travels in Italy I was most fortunate to encounter Estella Sapenti, who has since become known as Estella the Wise due to her unrivaled ability to reconcile feuds.  It has long been my opinion, however, that the title is all the more deserved as she has been able to heal the brain damage caused by extensive exposure to Cruciatus when all previous efforts have failed!'"  She read the last few words with triumphant emphasis.

Harry and Ron scrambled out of their chairs and stood behind Hermione, looking over her shoulders.  "Tell us there's more," said Harry.

"Ha!" said Hermione.  She read some more from the page.  "'Consequently, it was this extraordinary accomplishment I most wished to discuss, and this renowned witch was most gracious and obliged me.  The secret of her success'" – Hermione's face was alight – "'is none other than a finely honed talent for Legilimency, which she was able to use to locate those who were prisoners in their own minds.'  Legilimency!  Oh, that makes perfect sense!"

Harry was feeling an odd mix of elation at finally finding what they sought and confusion at not recognizing the term 'Legilimency'.  "What's that?" he said aloud.

"It's the ability to look inside another person's head at their feelings, thoughts, and memories," Hermione said promptly.  "It's not a very common talent at all, from what I understand."

Disappointment washed over Harry like a wave.  He dropped into the nearest chair and buried his face in his hands.  "Then it's all been for nothing," he said tonelessly.

"What?" said Hermione, giving him a shocked look.

"It's a talent," Harry said miserably.  "You said it yourself."

The color slowly drained from Ron's face.  "He's right," he said quietly.  "You can't just learn Legilimency, can you?"

"You _can_ learn it," Hermione said firmly, "if you have the ability."

"I'm not –" Harry began, but Hermione cut him off.

"You don't know that for sure, do you?" she said.  "Maybe you _can_ be a Legilimens!"

Harry felt anger rise up inside him.  "And what if I can't?  Dumbledore said I might be the only one who can help Professor Thornby!"

"Well then, we'll have to find another way," Hermione said, sounding angry herself.  "But until then I wish you wouldn't just discount the only lead we've got!"

Harry clenched his teeth.  She was right, of course, but it was terribly frustrating to finally find a solution only to learn that they probably wouldn't be able to use it.  If Legilimens were as rare as Hermione said they were, then the chances that Harry would be one were slim to none.  None of his talents were his own, Harry thought bitterly.  He was a Parselmouth because Voldemort was a Parselmouth.  He could cast _Donum__ Vitae_ because Professor Thornby had cast it on him.  Even his famous survival of the Killing Curse wasn't his doing; his mother had done it.

"But that doesn't rule out the possibility that you could still be able to do this," Ron said hopefully, and Harry realized he'd been griping out loud.

"Yes," said Hermione.  "I think we should find some books on Legilimency and see if you can…"  She blinked once and paused.

"And what?" Harry prompted tartly, still feeling annoyed with her.

Hermione's lips parted slightly as the light of inspiration dawned on her face.  "Harry!" she breathed.

"_What?_" snapped Harry, feeling thoroughly irritated now.

"What if Professor Thornby is a Legilimens?  Or Voldemort?"

There was dead silence in the room.  Harry froze for a moment, weighing this thought in his mind.  "I don't know about Professor Thornby," he said slowly.  "She told me she was a Singer when she could have kept it a secret.  She wanted me to trust her."  _And then she went and altered your connection without telling you,_ said a sneaky voice inside Harry's head, but he quashed it.  "I think she would have said something if she were a Legilimens.  For a long time she thought I was going to turn out to be a Singer because of _Donum__ Vitae_."

"What about Voldemort, then?" said Hermione, still looking excited.  "There's loads written about him.  I'm sure we could find something that would tell us whether or not he could do it."

"I don't know," Ron said dubiously.  "It's not like anyone's ever sat down and written an authorized biography of Voldemort.  And you won't find him in any of the books about the great witches and wizards, either."

"Well, what about the _Daily Prophet_?" said Hermione.  "Voldemort must have taken up a lot of newsprint during the years he was in power."

"Where are we going to find copies of the _Daily Prophet _from sixteen years ago?" said Harry.

"Libraries keep those sorts of things," said Hermione.

"We know of _one_ library that's off-limits," said Harry.

"Why can't we just _ask_ someone what he can do?" said Ron.

Everyone looked at each other.  "I guess we could do that," Harry said slowly.  "But we'd have to pick someone who'd really know."

"Well, that's easy," said Hermione.  "Dumbledore."

"Or anyone in the Order," Ron put in.  "I'd think that they would all have to know what Voldemort's skills are.  Otherwise they wouldn't be prepared to face him, would they?"

"I don't think anyone can ever be prepared to face him," Harry said softly.

There was silence for a moment as the three friends mulled over this dark truth.  Hermione finally opened her mouth, about to speak, when Sirius walked into the library.

"There you are," he said cordially.  "Remus said you might be up here.  There's some breakfast downstairs if you want it."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other, all thinking the same thing.  Here was an Order member.

"Is Voldemort a Legilimens?" Harry said abruptly.

Sirius' face bore a look of complete surprise.  "Interesting question," he said after a moment.  "What brought this on?"

"We were just talking about him," Ron lied smoothly.  "Hermione said she thought she'd read that he was.  We'd really rather know what we're up against."  Hermione shot Ron a very dirty look.

Sirius didn't look as if he believed this statement, but he didn't call Ron on it.  "As a matter of fact, he is a Legilimens," he said.

Hope blossomed anew in Harry's heart.  He fought to keep his face still and saw that Ron and Hermione were struggling to contain their excitement, too.  It was really kind of funny, thought Harry; he never could have imagined that he'd be happy to hear that Voldemort could read minds.

"Now, as to Voldemort's accomplishment in Occlumency… that's something we're not too sure of," said Sirius.

"Occlumency?" said Harry before he could stop himself.

"That is the ability to keep other people from intruding into your own mind," said Sirius.  "How is it that you know of one and not the other?"

"_I_ know about both of them," Hermione said primly.

Sirius smiled.  "No doubt."  He looked expectantly at Harry.

"Hermione's only mentioned the one so far," said Harry, "but I suppose she was getting to it.  You interrupted us, you know."  Hermione scowled.

Sirius' eyes traveled to the three open books on the table.  "Have you found what you were looking for?" he said, his voice growing quiet.

"Maybe," Harry said evasively.  "I think we might be getting close."  Part of him felt a pang of guilt at lying.  They had indeed found what they were looking for which ought to be cause for celebration for everyone, but Harry felt quite unwilling to get anyone's hopes up.  It still remained to be seen whether he could manage Legilimency.  When that question was answered, then he'd tell everyone.  At least that way they'd know what they were up against.  Either he could potentially cure Professor Thornby or they'd have to look for another Legilimens.

"Well, breakfast is getting cold," said Sirius, turning to go.  "Oh, and if you really do want to know more about Legilimency, you could talk to Dumbledore.  He's quite skilled at both Legilimency and Occlumency.  Greasy old Snivellus can do both as well, but I doubt you'd choose him over Dumbledore."  And so saying, he left the library.

Harry, Ron and Hermione stared at each other as Sirius walked out.  "That's it, then!" said Ron as soon as Sirius was out of earshot.  "You can ask Dumbledore to try and teach you!"

"Yes," said Hermione.  "I know he's busy and all but I'm sure he'd make the time for something as important as this."

"Sounds perfect," said Harry, who could hardly believe that things could work out so smoothly.  If Dumbledore discovered that Harry wasn't a Legilimens then it wouldn't be so bad.  Maybe Dumbledore could manage the job himself, and it wouldn't matter that Harry couldn't do it.

"So," Hermione said briskly, "what are we waiting for?  Let's write to him!"

Ron's stomach gave a loud growl.  "Oh, after breakfast, Hermione," said Ron.  "I'm starving."

Hermione looked as if she couldn't fathom this attitude at all.  "After all it's taken for us to get this far, how can you want to put this off for even one minute?" she exclaimed.  Her own stomach suddenly groaned, and she blushed bright red.

Harry and Ron grinned at each other.  "Come on," said Harry.  "We're all hungry.  And just think – you'll work more effectively after having had breakfast."  He thought this was a particularly smart thing to say; if anyone could be swayed by the promise of becoming a more effective worker, it was Hermione.

"We'll be back within half an hour," said Ron.  "Nothing's going to happen between then and now."  He and Harry stood up, and Hermione reluctantly followed suit.

No one else was in the breakfast room when they arrived.  It did indeed look as if the others had already partaken of the food on the table and gone their separate ways.

"I've got a consolation prize for you, Hermione," said Ron as he sat down.  "I'll eat as fast as I can."

"That's how you _always_ eat," Hermione scoffed.

"Are you belittling my table manners?" said Ron, sounding taken aback.

"Well, if you were indeed unaware of the fact that you have almost _no_ table manners at all, then I'd say it's high time someone brought it to your attention," said Hermione.

"Merlin's beard, don't start!" snapped Harry when Ron opened his mouth.

Ron looked highly affronted.  "_I_ wasn't about to start a row," he said loftily.  "I was only going to call your attention to the post owl that's sitting outside."  He pointed to the windows behind Harry.

Harry twisted in his chair to look.  A large, black owl was sitting on the windowsill.  It was using one of its feet to tap on the glass while a letter was clutched in the other.

"That's odd," said Hermione.  "It's getting a bit late in the morning for owls.  Whose is it?"

"I don't know," said Harry, getting up and walking over to the window.  "I've never seen it before."  He raised his hand to the latch.

A white blur suddenly slammed into the black owl so hard that it tumbled away from the windowpane.  Ron and Hermione gasped and leapt from their chairs.  Harry pressed his face against the glass, searching for the bird.  A moment later it soared back down into view, followed closely the bird that had attacked it.

"Hedwig!" cried Harry.

Hedwig rose above the black owl, screeched loudly and dropped on it like a stone, claws spread wide.  The black owl squawked and swerved but wasn't fast enough to avoid Hedwig's attack.  It opened its own talons to fight back and the letter fluttered into a nearby hedge.

"Hedwig, stop it!" Harry shouted angrily.  She paid him no mind, screeched again, and launched herself back at the other bird.  This time her claws came away red.  The black owl screamed and tried its own attack, but it was wounded and merely took another slash to the wing for its pains.

Harry moved to open the window.

"Harry, don't!" Hermione said anxiously.

"She's killing it!" said Harry.

"And she probably has a reason!" said Hermione.  "That's not a friendly owl – I'd bet my test scores on it!"

At any other time Harry would have found this statement hilarious, but with the horrible fight going on outside the window it didn't sound that funny.

"What is that terrible racket?" said Lupin, striding into the room.

"Hedwig's attacking a post owl!" said Ron.

Lupin took one look out the window at the fight and promptly rushed outside.  Harry, Ron and Hermione watched through the windows as he pointed his wand at the two owls and shouted, "_Petrificus__ Totalus!_"  Harry shouted in alarm as they froze and began to fall – Hedwig would be injured if she struck the ground – but Lupin slowed their descent with a wave of his wand and the birds landed gently on the grass.

Harry hurried to the nearest door and opened it.  He was halfway across the lawn when Lupin suddenly said, "Stay where you are, Harry."

"But Hedwig –" Harry protested.

"She's fine," said Lupin, giving Hedwig what Harry considered a very cursory glance.  "Black owls are a bad omen, and Hedwig sensed enough evil to want to keep it away from you.  This is not from a friendly sender."

"Malfoy?" guessed Harry.

"Maybe," said Lupin.  "Did it have a letter?"

"It's in the bushes," said Harry.

"_Accio_letter!" Lupin commanded, and a creamy envelope sped out of the hedge and into his hand.  The werewolf looked critically at the writing on the front while Harry waited impatiently ten feet away.  He glanced back toward the house and saw Ron and Hermione watching them through the window.

"What does it say?" Harry finally said.

"It's got your name on it and nothing more," Lupin replied.  "I don't recognize the hand."

"Well, is it hexed?" said Harry, whose curiosity was by now extreme.

"There's one way to find out," said Lupin with a grim smile.  "But first – _Finite Incantatem!_"  He brandished his wand at the envelope, but nothing happened that Harry could see.  "_Wingardium Leviosa!_" said Lupin, and the letter fluttered out of his hand and hovered in the air before him.  Lupin waved his wand one more time and the envelope began to open all by itself.  A piece of parchment slowly unfolded.  At his distance Harry couldn't read it, but he could tell that it bore a few words only and was mostly blank.

Harry's scar suddenly gave a dull twinge.  At the same moment he heard a muffled cry from inside one of the upstairs room and the sound of breaking glass, followed by a shout and the chittering of house-elves.

Lupin turned to look at the upstairs windows.  Harry could see Ron and Hermione looking up at the ceiling from their place at their own window.  Suddenly one of the casements opened and Sirius leaned out.  "Get up here, Moony," he said urgently.  "Something's wrong."  Lupin said nothing but hurried back to the door, leaving the parchment still hovering in the air.

Harry lost no time in walking straight up to the letter.  Nothing had happened to Lupin, so simply standing near it couldn't possibly do any harm.  It was hovering at eye level, making it easy for Harry to make out the three words written on the parchment in heavy black ink.

_HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HARRY.___

Harry stared incredulously at the message.  Happy birthday?  That was two days away yet.  Who had sent this?  Without thinking, Harry stretched out his hand to pluck the letter from the air.

Parchment, envelope, and black owl suddenly burst into flame.  Harry jumped back with a shout, but the fire was out almost as soon as it began.  Bits of ash drifted down through the air from where the letter had been, and nothing was left of the black owl but a few feathers on the grass and a very bad smell.  Quickly Harry retrieved Hedwig, who was starting to shake off the charm, and ran back inside.

"Did you see that?" he exclaimed to Ron and Hermione.

"Yeah," said Ron.  "Bugger!  The owl and everything!"

"What did it say?" Hermione said anxiously.

"It said 'Happy birthday, Harry'," said Harry, giving Hedwig a pat.  "What's happening upstairs?"

"Pip came by and said something about Professor Thornby having a terrific headache.  She knocked something over," said Ron.

Comprehension suddenly flooded through Harry.  "My scar hurt just a minute ago!" he said.  "It didn't hurt much, though."  He looked up at the ceiling.  "_She's_ feeling it.  How many times has my scar hurt in the last couple of months and I didn't know it?" he said, his voice rising.

"Voldemort's happy about something," Hermione said softly.

"He could be angry," said Ron.

"No," said Hermione.  "That letter was from him.  Don't you see?  It was a taunt.  He must know it's been opened, and now he's happy.  If Harry felt it through the buffer then he must be _really _pleased.  Oh, something bad is going to happen…"

A phoenix's cry suddenly echoed through the room.  Harry, Ron and Hermione all looked around, trying to find the source of the sound, but Fawkes was nowhere to be seen.  At the same moment a roll of parchment flew out of the fireplace and hurtled straight for them.  Hermione shrieked and ducked out of the way but Harry reflexively snatched it out of the air.  As soon as he touched it the seal snapped in two and the parchment unrolled itself.

_M. Marchbanks sends word that the __village__ of __Warbleton__ is under attack._

Harry read the brief message aloud.  "She's in the Order," he said when Ron looked confused.  "She told me so during one of my practicals."

"Oh, no," Hermione said in a small voice.

"What's the matter?" said Ron.

"My dream," she said, and Harry saw that her face had gone dead white.  "A village."

"It might not have been about _this_ village," Harry said stoutly.

Bellaton swept into the room like a blustery November wind, making the three of them jump.  "What does it say?" he demanded.

Harry read the message again.  Bellaton nodded, turned on his heel, and hurried back out again.  Moments later he returned, swathed in a traveling cloak although the day was fast becoming uncomfortably warm.  Lupin and Sirius were right behind him, though only Lupin was similarly garbed.

"You can't keep me cooped up here forever!" Sirius was saying angrily.

"Arthur says you'll be cleared any day now," said Lupin, sounding harried.  "This is not the time to start taking risks!"

"Since when have you been so risk averse?" said Sirius.

"Someone has to stay here with them," said Bellaton, nodding in the students' direction.  "You are the most logical choice."

Harry felt the flush of anger in his face.  Why did someone have to stay with them?  They were nearly adults, and Alverbrooke was just about as safe as Hogwarts.

"The villagers of Warbleton don't know me!" Sirius protested.  "And the Death Eaters already know whose side I'm on –"

"Griselda's not the only witch who lives there!" said Lupin.  "We don't have time to argue – stay put, and get that letter and the owl!"  And with two loud cracks, he and Bellaton Disapparated, leaving a fuming Sirius in their wake.

"All right," Sirius snarled.  "Where's this letter?"

"Burned," Harry said tersely, and he explained what he had seen.

Sirius seemed to agree with Hermione's assessment of the situation.  "It would be the kind of thing Voldemort would do – use your birthday as an occasion to do a little killing."  He gave Harry a sharp look.  "Whatever happens, I don't want you feeling guilty," he said.  "You can't help it if the Dark Lord is a sick, vindictive –"

"I _don't_ feel guilty!" Harry snapped.  "I don't want to talk about this right now.  Is Professor Thornby all right?"

"We got her sedated," said Sirius.

Hermione gasped.  "Was that really necessary?"

"It seemed the kindest thing to do," said Sirius.  "It's not as if we had a lot of time to sit around and discuss remedies, not with her clutching her head with both hands and wailing like that!  And even if she'd been capable of listening to us she wouldn't really have been cogent.  You can't reason with the insane!"

Harry's anger was heating up.  Sirius was still upset at being left behind, and it showed in the sharp edge his voice had taken.  Harry felt as if his own irritation was feeding off Sirius' mood.  He knew he'd just said that he didn't care about Voldemort's reason for attacking a town, but the truth was that he _did_ care.  Voldemort didn't want little villages, he wanted Harry.  People were fighting and probably dying in Warbleton and it was all because Voldemort had been thinking about him.  It was impossible not to feel guilty; how could Sirius tell him not to?  And then there was Professor Thornby, going behind his back and playing the martyr –

_She didn't intend for this to happen and you know it,_ said that little voice inside Harry's head.  The self-reproach only served to make him angrier.

"I want this done with!" Harry shouted.  Ron and Hermione looked at him with surprise and alarm, seemingly unable to account for his sudden temper.  He decided to elaborate for them.  "I'm not a child, I don't want my birthday to be remembered for a massacre, and I don't like her _buffering_ me!"  He stomped out of the room and down the hall, leaving his two stunned friends and a chastened-looking Sirius behind.

Harry was not paying attention to where he was going, and so he was surprised when his feet took him back to his room and not the library.  However, one look at his Firebolt in the corner was enough to convince him that a flight would be just the thing.  He was too upset to look at books just then.

Harry soared out one of his open windows, not bothering to tell anyone where he was going.  _They know I won't leave_, he thought bitterly as he flew toward the woods.  _I don't need to give an accounting of my every move._

It was some time before Harry felt ready to return to the house.  By late afternoon his anger had cooled completely, only to be replaced by hunger, regret and a little bit of shame.  He wanted to be treated like an adult but storming out like that had probably seemed childish to everyone else.  _At least I've got company,_ thought Harry.  _Sirius was right snippy himself, though not without reason._  It wasn't as if Harry didn't have reason to be upset, too, but was this the way an Auror should purport himself?  Tonks and Kingsley wouldn't go flouncing about just because things weren't going the way they wanted.  Neither would Dumbledore, who always seemed to keep his head no matter how dire the situation.  And on top of all that, Harry had run out on Hermione.  He had completely forgotten about her distress over her dream until he'd been outside for quite a while.  Some friend he had been.

When Harry flew back in through his bedroom window he found Sirius waiting for him.  "How are you feeling?" his godfather said quietly as Harry put the Firebolt back on its stand.

"Better," Harry said truthfully.  Self-reproach was better than bubbling anger but it still wasn't a _happy _feeling.

"Look, I shouldn't have patronized you about the birthday thing," Sirius said gruffly.

"Forget about it," said Harry.  "It was a lot of things, really."

"So you said," said Sirius.  The knowing smile on his face made Harry smile a bit in return, and some of his bitter feelings vanished.

"Ron and Hermione must be pretty annoyed with me, then," said Harry.

Sirius shrugged.  "Not really.  All Ron said was that he didn't envy you, and the two of them went back to the library.  They've since gone home at Molly's request, though.  I think she just wanted her family close after the attack."

"Is it over?" asked Harry, knowing that Hermione couldn't have been as calm as Sirius thought.  He definitely owed her an apology.

"It didn't last long once the Order showed up," said Sirius, and Harry could tell that his godfather was trying to keep his voice even.  "It was mostly just a lot of destroyed property and frightened Muggles, none of whom were killed, fortunately."

"And the Order members?" said Harry.

Sirius sighed.  "Griselda Marchbanks is dead.  She might have been the main target, but it's hard to know for sure at this point.  She did take out a Death Eater before she went, though."  Sirius sighed.  "Great lady.  Very adept for her age; she'd have been pleased with herself, had she lived."  He paused again, seeming to struggle with himself.  "I just said I was sorry for patronizing you, so I suppose I shouldn't do it now.  You ought to know that the message from Voldemort's letter was shot into the sky above Warbleton."

Harry closed his eyes.

"Fight that guilt, Harry," Sirius said gravely.  "It's what he wants, you know – to demoralize you and the entire Order."

"What he wants is me dead," said Harry.

Sirius gave one of his barking laughs.  "True – he wants you and me and all of us dead so he can rule the world with an iron fist.  Just remember this – if it's a day ending in 'y', Voldemort is in the mood to kill or destroy.  It's got nothing whatsoever to do with your birthday.  If it hadn't happened now it would have happened later.  Just be glad that today isn't _really_ your sixteenth."

Harry nodded.  "Yeah."

Sirius stood up.  "Let's go," he said.  "Dinner's waiting."

"I'm not very hungry," Harry lied.

"Too bad," said Sirius.  "You're going to have some dinner with me.  Today might be ruined but tomorrow we've got to pick ourselves up and press on."

"How?" said Harry, feeling despondent despite Sirius' words.

Sirius smiled darkly.  "You just do," he said, "and you will.  There's too much at stake not to.  Now, come on – let's eat."


	8. Discoveries

**A/N:** From now on author's notes will follow chapters instead of preceding them. See below.

Chapter 8: Discoveries

Harry went down to breakfast the next morning to find Sirius and Lupin already there. Both men looked tired and careworn. Neither was speaking to the other, but Harry didn't think that they were still quarrelling. A member of the Order had been killed last night, and the loss had to weigh heavily upon their minds.

Wordlessly, Harry joined them. When a post owl deposited the _Daily Prophet_ atop his scone, he glanced at it and quickly looked away. News of the attack on Warbleton was splashed all over the front page, and a large picture of the sparkling words "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HARRY" hanging above the town's rooftops accompanied the headline. Seeing that photograph made Harry feel sick to his stomach. His one consolation was that no one could possibly think that he had had anything to do with the attack now that Voldemort's return had been accepted as fact. No one in their right mind could fail to see it as anything other than what it was – a cruel swipe at Harry.

As the silence dragged on, Harry remembered what he, Ron and Hermione had decided the previous day – that he was going to ask Dumbledore to test him for the ability to perform Legilimency. Harry's heart sank when he realized that Dumbledore probably wouldn't be available now that Voldemort had struck again. Still, it wouldn't hurt to ask.

"Sirius," Harry said neutrally, "when do you think I could talk to Dumbledore about… what I mentioned yesterday?"

Lupin looked up from his own copy of the _Daily Prophet_.

Sirius smiled wryly. "I don't think he'll have many free moments in the foreseeable future. Can't it wait? I'd hate to have to ask Snape to darken our doorway."

Lupin's curiosity seemed thoroughly piqued. "What do you need Severus for?"

"Harry and his friends wanted to know whether You-Know-Who was a Legilimens," said Sirius.

"He is," said Lupin.

"I told them as much," said Sirius. "I suggested they talk to Dumbledore if they wanted more information. I know very little about it, myself."

"You would if you'd paid attention in class seventh year," said Lupin. Sirius merely shrugged, and Lupin smiled for a moment before turning his gaze to Harry. "Why the sudden interest?"

"Ron, Hermione and I were talking about Voldemort and it just came up," Harry lied, using the story that Ron had fed to Sirius. "Hermione thought she'd read somewhere that he could do it. If Voldemort can read minds, then I'd like to know about it."

"Ah." Lupin took a deep drink from his coffee cup and gazed at Harry over the rim. Harry couldn't decide whether his old professor was convinced by the story or not. "And how is your research coming?" he continued, setting his cup back in its saucer.

"It's coming," Harry said evasively. "We're not quite through the books yet. I expect we'll continue today if Ron and Hermione want to. I was a bit of an idiot yesterday."

None of that had been a lie, although it wasn't the whole truth. He _had_ been an idiot, and they hadn't read all of Nicodemus' books, but that was because they had already found what they were looking for. Harry felt no more willing to mention their find to Lupin than to Sirius.

_So now what?_ Harry asked himself. Dumbledore didn't have time to test him just now, and there was no way he was going to go to Snape for help, but he didn't think he could bear to just sit around when he was so close to the answer he sought.

The answer suddenly seemed perfectly obvious. _I'll just have to figure it out myself._ Yes – that was it! He could look in the library for more information about Legilimency. If he was lucky, he might find a description of how it was done. Hermione would probably have a good idea of where to start; she had spent a lot of time in the library during the previous summer.

At that moment, Hermione stepped out of the fireplace, and Ron followed shortly after. Their greetings to Harry weren't as warm as usual, but neither were they cold, and Harry hoped that they were willing to tell him to forget about yesterday.

"Good morning," said Sirius. "There's plenty of food, if you're interested."

"I'm fine, thanks," said Ron. Hermione was staring off into a distant corner of the room, apparently not having heard the invitation.

"Something on your mind, Hermione?" said Lupin. "I suppose you've heard about everything that happened in Warbleton."

"Oh!" said Hermione, glancing up in surprise as if she had indeed been lost in her own thoughts. "Well, yes, we have heard it all, but that's not what I'm thinking of, not exactly. It's just that… well, I had a dream the night before last, and I've been trying and trying, but I can't quite remember it, and I don't know why. I've always been able to remember the important kind before."

"But how would you know if you'd forgotten?" Ron joked.

Lupin, however, was concerned. "You had a dream? The night before the attack?"

"Yes," said Hermione, "and I think it might have been about Warbleton, but I can hardly recall any of it. I slept like the…" She trailed off.

"Like the dead," Lupin said heavily. "There's no harm in using the word. Griselda's gone; she'd think us foolish for tiptoeing around the subject. But I must admit that I expected you to sleep deeply, Hermione. I had Pip make a special pot of tea after you returned from the Library. He added some powdered oak root and a small shot of firewhiskey."

"Oh," said Hermione. "Well, I understand the oak root." She rolled her eyes when she saw Ron looking at Harry for a clue. "It's one of the ingredients in Dreamless Sleep potion," she said irritably. "But isn't firewhiskey supposed to have a rather strong taste? I didn't notice anything strange."

Lupin apparently found this question amusing. "Why do you think they call it firewhiskey? It does burn on the way down. Some people say they don't notice a thing, but most of them are lying. Anyway, there wasn't much in the pot, and the oak root would help mask the taste." He sighed. "I never imagined I'd be causing a problem. It was my feeling that you all needed something to help calm your nerves."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders halfheartedly. "There's no way you could have known. At least I know that I'm not going to start forgetting my dreams all the time, now."

Harry was glad that Hermione had her answer, but now that he had a plan of action, he was impatient to get to the library. "What do you say we get moving?" he said aloud. "We, um, have a lot to do."

Everyone looked at him, surprised by the abrupt change of subject. Sirius recovered first. "You never answered my question about Dumbledore. If you really want me to" – he sighed in resignation – "I'll contact Snape for you."

"Don't bother," said Harry. "It can wait." And so saying, he strode out of the room, leaving Sirius and Lupin looking at each other in confusion.

"Oi! What's the rush?" said Ron, who was hurrying after with Hermione.

"It's nothing," said Harry. "It's just that I have an idea and I really want to get started."

"Well, I hope you plan to clue us in on whatever it is," said Hermione, sounding wounded.

Harry stopped walking, and so did his friends. He turned to face them. "Look," he said, "I'm really sorry about yesterday. I don't know why I acted like such a prat. But right now I want to talk to you both about something, and I don't want to do it in front of Remus and Sirius."

"Oh," said Hermione, perking up a bit. "All right, then."

"So what is it?" said Ron.

It took Harry a moment to recover. He hadn't expected Ron and Hermione to brush off yesterday so easily, but if it didn't bother them, then he wasn't going to let it bother him. "Let's get to the library first," he said. "We're not far enough away from them yet."

They filed up the stairs and down the hall to the room in question. As soon as he entered, Harry made a beeline for one bookshelf in particular and began to climb its ladder. Since he and his friends had spent so much time combing the library, he felt that he knew the arrangement of books rather well.

At the base of the ladder, Ron and Hermione exchanged doubtful glances. "So tell us what the big secret is," said Ron.

Harry continued to climb, peering at each shelf as he did so. If he remembered correctly, books about mental health had been located on this shelf. "At breakfast, I asked about getting some of Dumbledore's time, and Sirius said he didn't think that would be possible for a while."

Ron snorted. "How could he say that when he knows how important this is?"

"Well, that's the thing," said Harry. "He doesn't know why I want Dumbledore at all."

"You didn't tell him?" said Hermione in disbelief.

"Nope," said Harry.

"_Why_?"

Harry hesitated in his climb. He looked back down past his shoulders at his friends on the tiled floor below. "Lots of reasons. We don't even know if I can do it, and I don't want to get anyone's hopes up. I'd like to find out whether or not I can do Legilimency first, and then take it from there."

"But Dumbledore wouldn't go spreading the news around if you asked him not to," said Hermione.

"Yes, well, he's not available right now, is he?" said Harry. He looked away from his friends and climbed up another rung.

"Professor Snape, then. He could tell you whether or not you could do it –"

"I am _not_ going to Snape for help," said Harry. On the floor below, he heard Hermione make a sound of exasperation.

"Oh, for heaven's sake! He helped save your life last year, and then you helped save his!"

"It didn't exactly make us friends."

"Well, what will it take for you to trust him?" Hermione exclaimed.

Harry looked down. "It's not that," he said. "I don't still think he's working for Voldemort, if that's what you mean."

"Then what is it?" Hermione said, softening her voice.

"You said that a Legilimens can look into other people's minds, to see their thoughts and memories and such," said Harry. "I don't want Snape in my head. I've got all sorts of memories that he's got no business looking at. Besides, he'd never consent to help me, and even if he did, he wouldn't keep it a secret. Can you imagine how he'd react if Sirius came to him to ask him such a thing?"

"I can," Ron laughed. He twisted his face into a frown, opened his mouth, and did a very passable imitation of Snape's sneering tones. "Have you taken leave of your senses, Black? I am not at your beck and call! I have neither the time nor the desire to tutor your pigheaded godson in the intricate details of Legilimency!"

Harry laughed, and so did Hermione, although she clearly wasn't convinced yet. "Look, Hermione," said Harry, "Snape and I don't mix. Going to him would cause all kinds of trouble, and all I want is to find out if I can do Legilimency at all."

"I don't know," she replied uncertainly. "In order to find that out, you'd have to practice getting into someone else's head, and if you're not going to tell anybody else about it… that leaves me and Ron as your guinea pigs. And learning Legilimency's not as simple as learning to levitate something, you know."

"Guinea pigs?" said Ron.

"Muggle expression," said Hermione.

"Yeah, I know," said Harry. "And that's why I promise I'd never try anything until we'd read enough on the subject. I'm not just going to wave my wand and give it a go without being prepared."

Hermione still looked doubtful. "Maybe…"

"It doesn't bother me," Ron put in. "I'd rather do this alone than have to deal with Snape."

"And I swear that the moment I found out I could do it, that would be it," Harry added. "No more practicing to see if I could get any better at it or anything. I'd go straight to Sirius and Lupin."

"And if Dumbledore still can't teach you and you have to go to Snape?" said Hermione.

Harry sighed. "Then I'll go to Snape."

"You mean that?"

"Yes."

"Good. Because if you renege, I swear I'm turning you in myself."

Hermione's acceptance settled the matter. Harry immediately turned his attention back to the bookshelf, looking for titles on Legilimency and Occlumency. It was much easier to find these than it had been to find Estella the Wise, but the moment he sat down and cracked one of the books, Harry realized that it was still going to take some reading to learn exactly what he wanted to know. Much of the information was far and beyond the basics of the spell, and a good deal of it was over his head. Ron and Hermione were having similar problems. "Maybe this will be useful later, when you try and cure insanity," said Hermione. "Assuming you do turn out to be a Legilimens, that is."

"Blimey!" Ron suddenly exclaimed.

"What?" Harry and Hermione said together, looking over at him with interest.

"It says here," said Ron, pointing at his book, "that Legilimency isn't exactly an inborn talent."

Hermione's mouth fell open slightly. "Are you sure? You're not reading about something else, like Occlumency?"

"I'm sure," said Ron, and he read a line directly from the page. "'Most witches and wizards can develop some amount of skill, but the greatest Legilimens are either sorcerers of remarkable ability, or those who have a natural affinity for it.'" He grinned cheekily at Hermione, whose face pinked.

"So even if I can't do it now, it doesn't mean I couldn't _ever_ do it, right?" said Harry hopefully.

"Well, according to this, it can take a long time to become good at it if you're not… predisposed," said Ron. "Or really talented in general."

"I guess we'll have to stick with hoping that I'm predisposed, then," said Harry.

Ron grinned back at him before turning a smirk upon Hermione. "So it looks like you made a wee bit of a mistake."

Hermione bristled slightly. "I only read about Legilimency in passing once, and the book implied that it wasn't a learnable skill."

"Implied?" said Ron, grinning still more broadly. "I'd hardly call that hard evidence."

"Well, when the writer went on and on about how uncommon Legilimens were, I came to the most logical conclusion, and that is that Legilimens are born, not trained!" snapped Hermione. She was clutching the book in her lap very tightly, and her shoulders were hunched.

"Sheesh. Take it easy," said Ron, rolling eyes. "I can count on one hand the number of times you've misquoted a fact, Little Miss Perfect, so you'll forgive lesser mortals like me who can't help tweaking you when you do."

Harry glanced up from his book at them. He only had one ear on the conversation now; Ron and Hermione quarreled so often that he had learned to tune them out. But Ron hadn't fired back at Hermione like Harry had expected. In fact, it almost sounded like he had paid her a compliment, however backward. Hermione seemed to have decided that Ron had done just that. Her defensive posture had softened into something less so. "Well. I'll certainly do my best to see that it never happens again, if only to prevent your having the satisfaction, Ron Weasley."

"Better watch it," Ron teased. "Because you know I'll be watching like a hawk. A hawk with Omnioculars."

"You'll be wasting your time." Hermione turned up her nose, but she was smiling a little bit now.

"You're still only human," Ron retorted, grinning wolfishly.

It took a few hours of leafing through various volumes, but at last they found a book that included a chapter on beginning Legilimency. It included instructions on how to pronounce the spell, details of the proper wand motion, and even a description of what it felt like to both cast and be under the spell.

While Harry excitedly devoured the information, Ron and Hermione were debating whether or not they should actively try to keep Harry out of their heads while he tried to get in. One of the more in-depth books had confirmed Hermione's suspicion that Occlumency, too, could be studied by anyone, and while it was not as difficult to learn as Legilimency, it still required great strength of will. Ron and Hermione agreed that they both wanted to learn at some point; neither liked the idea of anyone being able to look inside their minds, especially Voldemort. In the end, they decided not to attempt it until they knew more about Harry. "We don't want to make this any harder for him than it has to be," said Hermione. "And I'm uneasy enough about this as it is. There's really no reason to complicate things."

For once, Ron was in complete agreement with her. "But I want to start practicing this as soon as someone can teach me," he said. "And who's to say that you and I can't do Legilimency, too? I mean, we might be naturally good at it and we might not, but the book did say that anyone can do it a little. It'd be wicked cool."

"Yes," said Hermione, and her eyes lit up. "I hadn't thought of that! But I expect I'd find it more useful than cool."

"I'd be able to tell when Fred and George were about to pull something on me," said Ron, and a slow smile crept over his face. "That'd be both useful _and_ cool. Ha! Imagine their next prank falling completely flat because I foiled it. I can see their faces now!"

"Right," said Harry, interrupting them. "I think I'm ready to try this."

Ron and Hermione's chatter ceased immediately. They looked at each other and drew deep breaths. "Are you sure?" said Ron. "It was only one chapter, wasn't it?"

"I don't think we'll find anything else I can use that's any more complete," said Harry. "I've got the pronunciation and the wand movement, and I know how to get out of your head once I'm in."

"_My_ head?" Ron's face paled. "Whoever said _I_ was going first?"

"Hermione seemed more reluctant," said Harry.

Ron looked to Hermione for help, but she merely stared back at him with wide eyes that clearly said, "No way." He sighed and stood up. "Oh, all right. I guess I've got less knowledge to lose than she does, anyway."

"Oh, don't say that, Ron," Hermione said reproachfully.

"Well, whatever," said Ron. He shrugged in resignation. "One of us has to go first. It might as well be me." Hermione gave him a halfhearted smile.

Harry rose from his chair and, picking up the book he had been perusing, began to tell Ron what to expect. "If this works, then you ought to see memories in your head," he said. "At random, like you've got no control."

Ron gulped. "And you _will_ have control?"

"I think so," said Harry. "This really doesn't seem too hard. I just cast the spell, and then I ought to see your memories, too."

"So… you'll see what I see?"

"Right." Harry looked back at the book. "And if I were already good at this, I'd be able to look for something I wanted."

Ron gulped again. "Blimey. I don't like the idea of You-Know-Who doing that."

"Well, you'd know it if he were," said Harry. "You just… wouldn't be able to stop him."

"Unless I could do Occlumency," said Ron, who was now very pale. "Maybe you should just get on with it."

Harry put the book down and wiped his hands, which were suddenly sweaty, on his trousers before drawing his wand out of his pocket. "Okay. Stand… over there, I guess." He gestured with his wand to a spot near the table. Ron moved, and Harry motioned for him to step farther away from the table. "Don't want you to hit the corner if you fall over," he joked, and swallowed hard at the look on Ron's face. He stood still, facing Ron, suddenly not wanting to continue.

"Don't you think you should practice first?" Hermione said in a small voice.

"Good idea," Harry said quickly. He turned to face one wall full of books. He pointed his wand sternly at the wall and cried, "_Legilimens!_"

Nothing happened. He felt none of the sensations that the book said he should feel, but then, the wall didn't have any memories.

"Well?" said Hermione.

"Walls can't think," said Harry. "But I got the pronunciation right." He turned to face Ron again.

Ron inhaled sharply. "Might as well get it over with."

Harry nodded and tried to swallow. His mouth felt very dry. He thrust his wand in Ron's direction, drew a deep breath, and said, very clearly, "_Legilimens_!"

Harry felt a slip-sliding sensation, as if he were skidding across the floor toward Ron, but it was over almost as soon as it had begun. There was a brief feeling of resistance the likes of which Harry couldn't explain, and suddenly he was watching a very young Ron cry as the twins played keep-away with his teddy bear. The scene changed, and he saw Ron saving his first goal as Keeper for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Ron was blowing out candles on a birthday cake, fighting with Harry in the common room, getting on a broom for the first time –

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

The sheer volume of the voice sent Harry careening out of Ron's memories. He felt the slip-sliding sensation as his own mind retreated from his best friend. Harry staggered where he stood, feeling as if his brain had been picked up and slammed back into his skull. "Ron –" he managed. "Did you –"

Ron shook his head but said nothing. He was staring, white-faced, over Harry's shoulder.

Harry turned very slowly as the room seemed to spin whenever he moved. His godfather was standing in the doorway, his face nearly purple with rage, one hand clamped on his wand.

"What in blazes were you thinking of?" Sirius roared.

"Sirius –" Hermione began, stretching out her hand.

"I am addressing my godson!" Sirius snapped, cutting her off. "Although I do have a thing or two to say to you two as well, who should have more sense. But you, Harry! Have you lost your wits entirely?"

Harry dropped his head into his hands, not from shame, but in pain. He had been torn from Ron's head, and it _hurt._ Sirius' shouts weren't helping. He felt as if a hundred house-elves were tap-dancing on his brain. "We didn't just decide – to do this – for fun," he managed through gritted teeth.

"I don't care why you decided to do it!" Sirius thundered, and Harry bit back a moan. "You have no idea what you're doing! You could have seriously injured yourself experimenting like that, not to mention your friends!"

"Well, you – became an Animagus – on your own," Harry retorted. Instantly he wished that he had chosen less challenging words, because he heard Sirius suck in an enraged breath.

"I don't think you have any room to be smart just now, Harry Potter." His voice had dropped to a dangerous whisper. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, expecting Sirius to start shouting again at any moment. He heard his godfather step closer to him. "What on earth possessed you to do such a –"

"It's for the project!" Harry shouted, and was unable to bite back the whimper that escaped him at the end. His head was _splitting_.

Sirius paused for a moment. "What?"

"It's for Professor Thornby," Harry explained. "And the Longbottoms, and…." His voice sounded strangled. "Nicodemus said – Legilimency – I'm going to be sick," he finished as his stomach began to do somersaults.

"Sit down," Sirius said hurriedly, and Harry felt his godfather take hold of his shoulders. "Come on. Over here. Ron, fetch that dustbin, would you…?"

Harry shuffled his feet as Sirius steered him. At a feeling of pressure on his shoulders, he dropped into the chair that he knew they must have reached. Footsteps approached, and a metallic _clink_ on the tiled floor announced Ron with the dustbin.

"Harry, do you need –"

"No," Harry replied tightly, still clasping his head with both hands. "Just give me a minute."

"Let go," said Sirius, and his voice was surprisingly gentle. Harry felt his godfather's hands close over his own. "Let go. Let me see."

Harry allowed his hands to be pulled away, but he kept his eyes tightly closed. He felt the air around his face stir as Sirius began muttering unfamiliar words. To his immense relief, the throbbing of his brain began to lessen. It slowly ebbed away while Sirius continued his incantation, and when he finally stopped, Harry felt nothing but a dull ache at the back of his head. He carefully opened his eyes to see Sirius squatting in front of the chair. Ron and Hermione stood on either side of him, looking anxiously down at Harry. Both were very pale.

"Better?" Sirius asked quietly.

"Yes," said Harry. "Thank you."

Sirius' lips twisted in disapproval. "If it hadn't been so bad I might have left it. Maybe it would have taught you a lesson."

"It only happened because you interrupted," Harry said brashly. "The book told me what to do."

"The book told you what to do," Sirius repeated dryly. Harry saw Ron and Hermione look unhappily at each other. "What makes you think that the world will stop and wait while you sift through someone else's head? What makes you think, should you ever become a properly trained Legilimens, that you would never be interrupted by urgency or danger? Legilimency is not like other forms of magic, Harry! It is not as simple as charmwork or even a potion! You are mucking about in other people's brains! What would happen if something went wrong? There could be very real consequences!"

Harry felt his cheeks begin to warm. It was humiliating beyond measure to be so lectured in front of his friends. The book had indicated that basic Legilimency was not very dangerous, but he said nothing. There was more than a little truth in Sirius' words, and Ron and Hermione had had the same misgivings.

"That being said, I will grant you that I should have held my peace instead of exploding," Sirius said fairly. "I heard you cast the spell. I was so shocked that I didn't think about what an interruption might do, either to you or to Ron. You _are_ all right, aren't you?" he said, looking up.

"Yes," Ron said thickly.

Sirius got to his feet. "I don't know what the three of you were thinking," he said, shaking his head. "You two as much as Harry." Shamefaced, Ron and Hermione looked away from Harry, Sirius, and each other. "At least one of you should have had the common sense to stand up and say, 'This is dangerous.' And what was so urgent about this matter, anyway? Why couldn't you wait just a few days for Dumbledore?"

Harry looked down at his lap. He didn't know how to answer those last questions. It had seemed so urgent before, so imperative to learn Legilimency as soon as possible. But Sirius was right. Nothing would have happened in three or four days to make it necessary to proceed without Dumbledore. It felt terrible to have Sirius angry with him, and he felt even worse for landing his friends in hot water, too.

Sirius sighed and scrubbed at his hair with one hand. "Well, I can see that you've all taken my point," he said. "Can I assume, Harry, that Legilimency was how Estella managed to help her patients?"

Harry looked up at his godfather. Sirius no longer looked angry, but merely grim. He nodded his response.

"Legilimency's not that easy to manage," said Sirius. He paused for a moment before saying, "Was that your first try, or did I miss that?"

"It was the first," said Harry.

"And… did it work?"

Harry looked up at his godfather. Sirius' face was still grave, but there was a glimmer in his eyes that hadn't been there before – curiosity.

"Yeah, it did," said Harry. He looked past Sirius' shoulder at Ron. A slow smile was growing on his friend's face. Harry felt his own lips twist into a grin that he couldn't hold back. The pain in his head and Sirius' anger had nearly driven any feeling of triumph from him, but now it was returning. _He had done it!_

Hermione pressed both hands to her mouth and she looked at Ron. "It _did_?"

Ron nodded. Hermione actually squealed, and she spontaneously threw her arms around him in complete joy. Ron flushed to the tips of his ears, but he still hugged her back.

"I guess this means I'm a natural," said Harry. "The book said it wouldn't work on the first try for hardly anyone."

Sirius gave him a shrewd look. "So that's why you wanted to know about You-Know-Who," he said. "You thought you might be a Legilimens because he was a Legilimens. Like being a Parselmouth."

"Looks like I was right," said Harry.

Sirius quirked an eyebrow. "Maybe. You might have gotten it from him, and you might not have. Legilimens are hardly common, but they're not nearly as rare as Parselmouths. And it sounds like you already know that Legilimency can be learned."

Harry could hear the disapproval in Sirius' voice. He clearly thought that knowing Legilimency was not a genetic gift gave Harry even less excuse for trying it without a teacher. Luckily, though, Sirius said no more on that subject. "Well. It is very good of you three to want to help Frank, Alice, and Celeste," he said. "And I must admit that I am very pleased to hear that we've got some real prospects now." He paused for a moment before continuing. "I have no problem at all with your learning Legilimency, Harry."

Harry looked up at Sirius with hope. Ron and Hermione smiled with real excitement.

"However," said Sirius, "it's not really up to me. It's up to Remus, as he's your legal guardian now, and Dumbledore, who might not consent to teach you whatever Remus says."

Harry's heart sank a little. "You're going to tell them, aren't you." It wasn't meant to be a question.

Sirius smiled wryly. "Of course I'm going to tell them. They need to know what you've done so far, and also that I've already verbally flogged you within an inch of your life so you don't get shouted at again. I don't think a second round would drive the lesson in any deeper." One corner of Sirius' mouth twitched, and Harry couldn't help but smile a little. "All I want," Sirius continued, "is for all three of you to promise me that you will never do anything like this again. Because I swear if I ever catch you practicing alone without Dumbledore's permission, I'll… Well, I don't rightly know what I'll do, but it will have to be drastic." His mouth twitched again.

"I promise," said Harry. His friends murmured the same words. Their eyes were bright with simmering excitement. Harry got the feeling that they were going to pop if they were forced to keep from celebrating for much longer.

"All right," said Sirius. "I'll talk with Remus and get in touch with Dumbledore. Hopefully you won't have to wait too long."

The moment Sirius left the library, Ron and Hermione exploded. Their whoops and cheers echoed in the chamber, and before he even had a chance to move, Harry found himself crushed in one spontaneous, ecstatic embrace.

-

**A/N:** As Ron would say: Bloody hell! A new chapter! It's been ages, but I'm still around, and still writing, although my creative levels seem to have permanently dropped. But I won't let a little thing like that stop me.

krysalys73: You're always one of the first to review. :-) I guess when it comes to Sirius, I took the opposite tack from JKR. In Phoenix, he grew moodier. I've got him maturing a bit, although, to be fair, this Sirius isn't living at Grimmauld Place, which really must have stunk big time.

athenakitty: Whatever fate I had in mind for Sirius when I began Guardians, he'll keep.

Sherry: Glad you liked it! Thanks!

rose estraz: If you're still around… I'm really sorry. :-(

Rawiya Prabhakar: Will try harder to update much faster next time! This story hit a real dead zone for quite a while (obviously). I had to make some tough decisions, and I couldn't seem to work out the snarls for a long time, so I busied myself with other stories and other things. But I'm moving forward now.

Kaye: Aw, thanks!

Kiku-san: Hope you're still reading! Glad you enjoyed!

ginnlilanpotter: Thanks a bunch!

GinnyLilianPotter: Hmm. I think you're the same person as the last reviewer. But anyway, I'm flattered, and thanks for letting me know!

Ezmeralda: Thank you very much for the encouragement. Sometimes it bugs me a little what I'm doing – taking developments from Phoenix and twisting them around to suit my own ends, but I've found that I can barely help it. Canon events have just wormed their way into my head and I can't seem to keep them from influencing my writing.


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